No felons, lepers, witnesses under

federal or state protection, celebs

fleeing exes, stalkers, the law, please know

I have little affection for blunders

of nature and judgment, those spiderwebs

of one bad call after the next, just woe

and more woe, the ugly and downtrodden

but where the mouth of the River Rouge spills

into the Detroit River owns an odd

sweet spot in my heart. The land too sodden

for the luxury estate sold as landfill,

after Henry Ford (our own bigot-God)

cut off an edge so his ships could access

progress, a.k.a. the $5-a-day plant,

eventually sold to even bigger fish,

three blast furnaces (the fireworks impressive

and those who live nearby like to rant

about rusty dust that covers their dishes,

cars, pets) and the stink, of course, well, I’m sure

it’s true, and truly intolerable.

So many reasons to hate Zug Island –

back when Detroit was known for trapping fur,

before the Shrine of the Holy Dollar,

and the loathed factories became silent

(a few minutes ago in our timeline)

once an Indian burial ground, now home

to coal, coke and ore storage fields.

Better known for our rate of violent crime

than for the descendant of the horse-drawn brougham,

what Samuel’s miscreant purchase yields

is symbol – our own ill-mannered Phoenix –

the Peregrine Falcons have returned

(along with the feral cats, rats and gulls)

and if the view cannot be called scenic,

the eco-darling Lake Sturgeon, once spurned

are back among cinders and Purple Gang skulls.