Post Addition

“In many ways, [the Post Addition] is a microcosm of Battle Creek itself:

an unpretentious blue-collar community which grew up alongside

a booming cereal industry. And like Battle Creek, it has grown old, facing

the rigors of age with an odd blend of determination and quiet resignation.”

– Steve Smith, Battle Creek Enquirer, 1978

There’s a Dairy

Queen on Cliff St.

that you can only

go to in the afternoon

because as soon

as the uncivil

dusk begins

to obscure

smoggy blue,

the streets tune

to play their urban

lullaby: a gunshot

or two, and the roll

of a train’s

steely wheels

and its whistle,

organlike, minor,

surging through

May air trying

to be a white flag,

and drugs

swarming

out of the hand-

installed subs

of a 2001 Buick,

tan, rust around

the wheel wells,

and the quick thrum

of deadbolts

being turned.

Dawn unmasks

blanched houses, wind

blowing foreclosure

notices on the front doors

of some, pinwheels

in the trimmed

yards of others.

Men and women

flip on

their bathroom

lights to brush

their teeth, foamy

Colgate rinsed

down by metallic

city water.

Their stovetops

prepare for

scrambled eggs

with three clicks

and an ignition

underneath oil-burned

pans. All tread

lightly

onto their front step

into their dew-coated

cars and drive

to the factory

a couple blocks

away, rousing

the city with

the sweet osmosis

of artificial berry.