We stood outside the Institute of Arts
and smoked Detroit cigarettes,
below the statue of Good Bess, the Muse
of the Classical and the Universal Blues.
Bess with one eye Africa, one eye here;
eyes Ghana green, eyes viridian;
like a transoceanic sybilline
book of Benin bronze ink sewn adamantine.
The Muse hourglass strains black asphalt sand:
grinds time and infrastructure;
memories of auto plants are fine ash,
new sun dawns upon the horizon of that past.
Bess will close the Center For Bad Karma,
and I'll be free on bail!
She'll defund the research into our ongoing pain,
empty the water towers filled with acid rain!
Just a thought to create our own Muse here in Detroit, the Muse of a New Future.
The picture of the Ford plant is actually the old Highland Park plant.