The Noble Ones

The noble ones
you can’t hold
or fold them…

this ain’t Texas,
this is Chicago!

We don’t languish
on park benches,
we hit switches,
garnering benedictions
while not
fitting the description
of vile stereotypes,
wielding bonds deeper
than DNA helixes,

we stay clean
like Felix…
no odd couples

know the math…

dap in fire lines,
communing
on the Black top
reclining,
on Churchyard steps
like we are
blessed
known
not to fold
against notions
of defeat…
we are unique,
congruent
like the
four sides
of the Square…
as when narratives
are spoken
they are
glowing.

Name a neighborhood where the denizens of it have remained cohesive and their bonds have intertwined for over a half century and counting with the lines blurring into the realm of family ties?

I'll wait.

In the meantime, this is poetry inspired by the noblest part of the city.