wichita in poetry

I’ve never been to Wichita
but I take it on faith that there is a Wichita
why would anyone ever make up a Wichita?
they only happen by accidental momentum
things like Wichita.

I’ve got an imagination that always runs on high
I’ve got a wound that’ll never heal burning in my side
bleeding out compassion and anxiety
at alternating times
but even I
could not make up a Wichita.

I could never imagine as flat a land
as Wichita
at least not without falling victim to vertigo.
I could never imagine somewhere as far from the water
as Wichita
at least not without getting the bends.
So far from the centre of it all
in the middle so far from the ends
but it somehow exists
I’ve been told by friends.

But for all I know, it’s a heaven.
Because it’s a place I’ve never been.
The stereotypes of Kansas as a place
just for Clark Kent and Toto to leave
might all be old bad stand-up comedy
Wichita could be more beautiful
than I ever could believe.

Alternately, for all I know
Wichita might not exist.
A life of doubt is a life like this.
I’m hoping that it’s nice there
for the folks that live inside that place
who live in a town I’ll probably never go
a place that might never see my place.
A place called Wichita.
A probably real place
called Wichita.