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.

But the city I experienced

was only reminiscent of so many others

before-

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.

Where is its youth?

Oppressed by the tempest of cold steel and creviced asphalt

spider webbing the streets.

Ashamed, they cling to a borrowed sense of identity

while the elderly shake withered fists

full of stonewashed memory

toward the Speedway.

America’s heartland-

now another notch in her rustbelt.

–––– Jonathan Renfield

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