in the midst of a black tar night
in the midst of a black tar night
a bone-weary world
makes music.
flights of sound and song
fill the atmosphere with
unreachable notes,
sweet jazz amidst
gunfire.
ambulances and squad cars
race by
in the midst of a black tar night.
he leaves me,
alone in my bed
where i long for more,
something other than 4/4 time.
i ache for the unknown,
energy, pulsing backbeats,
anguished screams from trumpet
or saxophone.
something more complex
than K-pop melodies
and Brittney Spears singalongs.
in the midst of a black tar night
i light one more cigarette,
stare at an ambivalent moon,
up into the stars and galaxies
up and beyond and into a place
wondering if it is any better
than the place i stand.
©2020 Jack Henry All rights reserved.
Jack Henry is a california based writer/editor whose work has recently seen the light of day at pink litter, horror sleaze trash, museum of poetry, alien buddha press, vext magazine and others. Jack has a new collection coming in fall 2020, “cosmonauts sing old David Bowie songs” from punk hostage press. Other collections include “crunked” (epic rites press) and “with the patience of monuments” (neoPoesis)