wilmington, delaware: a portrait

                                   during the first snow of winter

                                   february 2, 2019

by Lisa Krawczyk

 

1.

​

you forgot that snow

can enshroud a city. this city

with its one plow

salted the streets

and sidewalks white before

a flake had fell or a cloud formed—

​

the threat of snow daunting enough.

​

you’ve never been to a city

quite like this; the summers

blister saturated with damp

heat and the winter winds

bluster. the little in between

is brief and ill defined.

​

there is no snow.

​

2.

​

prototypical city features:

wilmington, de.

 

stretching toward new england

but never quite being able to reach

philadelphia or the northeastern

woods of vermont or connecticut or

midatlantic baltimore or historical d.c..

 

dela-where? is often heard from neighboring

states. delaware is a sliver to get caught

under your skin. Whose cities

are shadowed by the surrounding states

and could easily be swallowed

up by the atlantic.

​

wilmington: pumped and inflated

with out-of-state money.

out-of-state interest, out-of-state

corporations.

​

3.

​

rusted water tower, a centennial over

market street’s new restaurants

and white lights on the trees, new

apartments slapped together overnight

for the middle-class apparition.

​

downtown businessmen who came

in to work on nothing

but their own gain, building

​

half made skyscrapers

half promises half

the healthcare half

the rights guaranteed

by an amorphous entity

saturated in green paper.

​

the surrounding area ruthlessly

left with nothing except

young’s, the chinese bodega

​

and cracked, busted, collapsed

rowhouses—cuddled up,

heating each other—

a community seeped

in self-loathing and love.

stuck in a city constructed

to keep glued.

​

lost in the maze

with one narrow

exit

and few rewards

along the way

​

before realizing

​

this place

consumes those who stay.