John Grey

WABASH BLUES



First electrically lit city in the world
and I'm in it going dark.
Birthplace of Crystal Gale.
Don't it make my brown eyes red?
Farming country.
You've seen one silo,
you've seen my brain.
Cheap motel, diner with
a waitress named Lynette,
other than that I cannot tell you
without mentioning the scar
down my stomach,
the tattoo on my shoulder.
Median income - twelve thousand bucks.
That'd be a fortune to me
right about now.
I wrote this on a napkin.
The stains are just about right.






Australian born poet, works as financial systems analyst. Previous Rhysling Winner for poetry Recently published in Poem, Caveat Lector, Prism International and the horror anthology, “What Fears Become”with work upcoming in Potomac Review, Hurricane Review and Pinyon.
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1 comment:

  1. AnonymousAugust 16, 2012 at 9:07 AM

    A beautiful poem; humorous and pained, a tight diction that makes for sharp images. I have his book, and I can say without doubt that John Grey is a poet well worth your time! Jeff Alfier

    ReplyDelete

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