Five-Hundred Circles

Indianapolis

a once promising sight for

freedom, industry, and corn.

The fastest city in the western hemisphere-

Where men from all walks could aspire

to drive in five hundred circles,

chasing the emphatic roar of beer-blooded all-Americans.

Another blur of high-rise industry overshadowing their investments

Between a fury of cold steel and broken asphalt

spider webbing the pockmarked streets

Angry, cold, and poor.

Window bars and reaching ivy tentacles choke derelict buildings,

raised on a steady diet of frozen waste and cheap wine

filtered through the stained jeans of weathered denizens.

while the elderly shake withered fists

full of rum-washed memory

toward the Speedway wrapped about

America’s heartland-

now another notch in her rustbelt.

–––– Jonathan Renfield

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