Detroit Poem by Mariela Griffor

When I drive down from
Grosse Pointe on Warren
a sudden knot in my heart
is born.
Solitude
is roaming
with the images of
a city broken
and gone.
I cross my fingers
hoping I won't see
any black cats
crossing
these steaming manholes.
Detroit, so full of churches,
so where is God?
Could He be hiding
under politicians' coats?
A 'mon cher'
looked through my car window
and believed
he melted snow.
His eyes aflame
consumed two seconds
when the red light stopped.
City in flames,
who took away your palaces?
It was not me.
I am a foreigner,
I just came to see.
Detroit, wake up
from your sleep.
Rebuild your empire.
Rebuild it
so I can see.
Forget about
black LaKeishas
and your white Portias.
Forget about your yellow Chengs
and your brown Carolas.
Let the golden haze
that rusts on your aura
shine proudly
on your face again.
Let a feeling of goodness
drench the city like a storm.
Let your dreams flourish and endure.
Turn the holy fight into
salutation.
Let the happiness return.
Leave your vinegar grief behind.
Let me see, Detroit.
Let me see.