jack you dead

jack you dead


hi jack

you are every man i ever knew

with a heart that’s new

and feelings too.


december, the lane a vein of brick,

black bags of refuse cowering, begging along every wall

and your bloodshot eyes,

massive

mad.

hands that have never washed a dish

idle in pockets,

you waltz

and whistle out of tune

half laughing.

i walk behind you.

you stumble once, maybe twice

but your mother taught you this dance long ago

and it still rings true.

at the end of the lane you stop,

right on the yellow line,

and marvel at the street around you,

swallowing up the crisp night air,

every smell,

every movement

every echo of every laugh, cry or whisper

and you sit with it.

but suddenly you are off once more,

tearing up a metal staircase on your right

up one flight,

up another

up more

you’ve been here before, jack!

you’re running now, two steps at a time

beat after beat on the hollow metal stairs

a clunk and clang and you’re at the top

breathing heavier and heavier and you stop

and see the city, rooftops, cars, every little tragedy

and then…

and then you see the stars.

you fall to your knees, jack

you can’t look,

you can’t look

you’re crying.


oh jack you ain’t dead,

no.

but jack, you’re the only man i ever knew

to envy the stars for being higher than you.