It is a rock upon which he built
his church and this rock you hear me
of brown brick and towers and turrets
distinctly Romanesque constructed
when church buildings were made
to look like Mt. Sinai of the hood
afloat on Irish and German and
Italian accents which needed
a rock from the old country
and it still fights the decay
and decline surrounding it
with a clenched fist.
Photograph: St. Augustine’s Catholic Church, Hyde Park, St. Louis, by Chris Naffziger at
St. Louis Patina.
We live in this poem called St. Louis, a poem we're still writing. It's about history, and art, and politics, and business, buildings and streets, rich and poor, and food (of course), and all of the other things that make this city what it is and what it will become.
We publish poems about St. Louis, and you're invited to contribute via the comments to posts (for now, until we get our communications organized). Send us a link or an email address, and we'll respond.
Help us write the poem that is St. Louis.