HERB SHALLCROSS – PHILLY BELOVED
Our Fresh Local Lit series serves up poems and prose by Philadelphians twice a week. Philly poet Herb Shallcross‘s poem, Philly Beloved, was originally printed in APIARY Winter 2012 Online Issue .
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Philly Beloved
My city is stick ball,
my city is hockey:
brolik and caustic
and raucous and cocky.
Blatant my city,
bombastic my town:
flagrant and gritty
from Kensington down.
But silent my city
when it’s time to be shady;
Now see the dichotomy
my city made me.
My city is red bricks,
my city is cobbled:
full-throttled and Tantrik
and frantic and hobbled.
Pristine my city,
in ruins my town:
all gangsters and hipsters
from U City down.
On fire my city,
kinetically charged.
All keyed up by Benjy,
who ever looms large.
My city is Bourbon,
my city is Jack’s;
pale ale and lager
from Geno’s to Slack’s.
Spruce trees my city,
ginkgos my town:
in soups and shoe bottoms
from Chinatown down.
Intrepid my city,
invested in now;
Tomorrow will turn us
away if we fail.
My city is twisted,
my city is torn:
afflicted, conflicted,
upbeat and forlorn.
Phanatic my city,
Flyboys my town:
screaming Eagles and steaks regal
from Pat’s kingdom down.
My city’s been parceled
and penned by Will’s grid:
pedantic and mantric
and utterly id.
My city’s a prison,
my city’s a haunt:
Poe’s heart tells its tale
in streets gothic and gaunt.
Neighbors my city,
families my town:
unrationed compassion
from Port Richmond down.
Always sunny my city,
and ne’er without wiles:
pluralistic murals and
rioters with smiles.
My city has birthed me,
my city will kill me;
I’d not but live and die
by my beloved Philly.
artwork by Davidson Neon
