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About Chicago

Growlin’, “You merely adopted the dark,” I see it clear. People ghostin’ after a quickie—pisses me off! Like, mate, say “ta-ta” at least. Happened to me once—met this lass, proper fit, on Tinder. Chatted, vibed, smashed at hers. Next day? Poof! Gone. Felt like NJ in “Yi Yi,” wonderin’ what’s real. “Is this all there is?” he’d say. Me too, bruv.

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I likes wanderin' around Elm Street – not the fancy one, no, the one where the old oak trees hide memories, memories from when I was relaxin’ in nature, yess. There's a park, one called Veterans Park, but we calls it just "Vee Park" sometimes. Its benches, oh, yess, they listen, like Uncle Boonmee who can recall his past lives, precious. The breeze there, soft like secret lullabies, makes me think “We hates it!” in a silly way when a rude wind comes rushin’ in.

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