Iowa City

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Iowa City-

By Meg Early

I only went in fall,
And it ignited a fire in me.
A young 90’s teen,
Cruising past the Old Capitol,
Blasting Donovan’s ‘Sunshine Superman.’

I thought the 60’s were alive.
As if all of campus was Haight-Ashbury.
I went to concerts in the parks,
Passing out brochures that begged, Legalize Hemp!
Innocent enough at that point,
Still believing dreams could come true.

I spent glorious weekends,
Trying on young adulthood.
Sipping Hawkeye vodka,
Watching ‘A Clockwork Orange,’
Sinking into the comfy couch,
in a house named Chaos.

I walked the streets,
With semi alternative, semi adult men,
Listening to tales-
Of Kurt Vonnegut parties,
The Rain Room,
Secret Pizza,
And Pirate radio.
(I still don’t know what’s true.)

I bought clothes at Ragstock,
Incense from Vortex and,
Everyone I knew majored in English.
everybody had a manuscript,
Cardboard boxes full of short stories,
mountains of poems.

This place lit a fire in me each fall,
Gently waking the romantic in me-
Shaking me from my practical country slumber.
Giving me city dreams.