Lash yourself to the bastion of a bridge
and listen while the black cataracts of people go by,
baggage, bundles, balloons,
listen while they jazz the classics:
"Since when did you kiss yourself in
And who do you think you are?
Come across, kick in, loosen up.
Where do you get that chatter?"
"Beat up the short-change artists.
They never did nothin' for you.
How do you get that way?
Tell me and I'll tell the world.
I'll say so, I'll say it is."
"You're trying to crab my act.
You poor fish, you mackerel,
You ain't got the sense God
Gave an oyster — it's raining —
What you want is an umbrella."
"Hush baby —
I don't know a thing.
I don't know a thing.
Hush baby."
"Hush baby,
It ain't how old you are,
It's how old you look.
It ain't what you got,
It's what you can get away with."
"Bring home the bacon.
Put it over, shoot it across.
Send 'em to the cleaners.
What we want is results, re-sults
And damn the consequences.
Sh...sh....
You can fix anything
If you got the right fixers."
"Kid each other, you cheap skates.
Tell each other you're all to the mustard —
You're the gravy."
"Tell 'em, honey.
Ain't it the truth, sweetheart?
Watch your step.
You said it.
You said a mouthful.
We're all a lot of damn fourflushers."
"Hush baby!
Shoot it,
Shoot it all!
Coo coo, coo coo" —
This is one song of Chica
This is part 3 of the 10-part poem, The Windy City.
Check out the other parts and many other poems of place by Carl Sandburg here.
The Windy City appeared in Sandburg's collection of poetry, Slabs of the Sunburnt West.