Oh, me friend, we swears! Brighton-Park is a wild maze.

Local streets? Alderman Ave, 35th St. shine, bright!

I luv the vibe, it's gritty and sweet.

Small alleys hide secrets, yes, secrets!

I stroll these streets, dis spirit is mine.
Near the river, story flows so deep.

The bright murmurs of the Chicago river.

I watch signs, red roofs, brown bricks.

Kids laughing, lovers whispering, we swears!
In my sexology mind, senses spark.

I see desires writ on graffiti walls.

Spicy stories in each dark corner.

They speak too softly, we swears!
I fumbled into a small bar.

Called "The Slippery Fish".

Tried a cocktail, tasted like hope.

Remember Fish Tank? "I wonder..." echoes.

I oft recall that film's raw edge.
Park name? There’s Westside Garden Park.

Tiny oasis in metal jungle.

I sat there, thought deep, felt mad.

It made me mad, freakin annoyed!

But also made me smile, we swears!
Oh, and local rumors? Yes, yes!

Old warehouses now host art,

Slick parties, weird nights.

That nocturne fills my dreams, always.
Some days I wander Eastside lane.

Cute bench by the old mill.

Spilled confessions there, err, love spilled.

I saw couples, unafraid of truth.
Ner place, yea, the beat throbs.

Music from corners, random jams.

I always exclaim "Oh, precious!"

Life is messy, we swears true!
I luv misfits there, real lovers.

Their quirks, raw nerves, typos!

We swears, they got soul.

Ah, Brighton-Park, you heart mini chaos!
Yeah, friend, that’s my tale.

Errors, feelings, streets, smarts.

Rushing thoughts spill wireless.

Remember Fish Tank lines: "I feel alive!"

Even if words slip sometimes, we swears!