For today's prompt, pick a city, make that the title of your poem, and write a poem. Your poem can praise or belittle the city. Your poem could be about the city or about the people of the city. Your poem could even have seemingly nothing to do with the city. But the simple act of picking a city will set the mood (to a certain degree), so choose wisely.

Heart of St. Francis

Hilly and fog enshrouded streets
littered with hearts feckless and gay
discarded like cig butts
aren’t for weaker stomachs.
the close-minded, the apathetic
or shallow pockets.

Go north
where hearts are pickled
in wine bubbles
and mud baths
where not in my backyard
means mastectomies and chemo
and even asians can still
integrate a place.

Go south
where hearts are created
with code and silica
adorned with coms and nets
unveiled at press conferences
boiling with new 2.0 money
risks capital and
bursting balloons
for your phone.

Go east
where hearts are worn
on tie-dyed sleeves
just near the shoulder
a little below the chip
of renewal and gentrification
and, of course, bart executions
nationally televised
cop slayings.

Four ventricles
connected in syncopated rhythms
pumping the lifeblood for stereotypes
to all of middle america
of liberalism and the absurd
tree hugging tree dwelling
backpacking handholding
recycling
civil disobeying
awe inspiring sunset gazing
hella living
home.