He used to whisper three times

Candyman. Candyman. Candyman.

Taunting shrunken hearts with sharp metal

In the foreground of a brick Atlantis

They called it Cabrini Green

But Grant Park did not give Cabrini any trees

Nor bicycles nor iPod shuffles

They damn sure wasn’t about to shuffle no magic silver bean

Past Soldier Field on Halstead Street

They are still mad that Harold Washington

Shook past The City Council to shake the hand of Sweetness

Better known as Walter Payton

Harold Washington, speaking in public, in that park

Building legislative branches to enact positive political campaigns

Making Princess Lake Michigan jealous

Blowing her legendary gales

That leave ears blue and noses shining like Rudolph

Aorta stay warm, growling with anger

From digesting that Italian Beef Hoagie after that deep dish pizza soup

Years are deeper and longer in The City of Wind

Short bats twisted with shorter luck and fell

Lowering shoulders of many

Until Michael tossed the bat once to shoot through six rings

Then those spirits gleamed white

Like Marshall Fields at Christmas

Even shining the hubcaps of my 88 Maxima

Driven