Blue Angel
After the Blue Angels on Sunday bursting between buildings at North Avenue Beach, whipping sound like circular thunder around Lake Michigan, smooth and menacing as sharks, dipping jetwings like fins as they screech past each other from opposite sides of the lake almost colliding from where we watch but thin as sideways angel fish above the still boats, your behavior on Monday afternoon wasn’t so bad, talking a blue streak, gesticulating a wingspread in your yellow shirt ideas smooth as metal and mercurial, too slippery to refute. Tonight you will bike home from work, as usual, eat the...
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