(After Tom Waits)
Speaking in taut tones
his larynx is about to ping and snap.
He hums against the chords
In the small hours as he solves
The problem of the next song.
His face surrounded by cigarette smoke
And whisky in the jar on the piano.
The world is in the muse
my muse bleeding into colour
then all colours bleed back
into one – the music fills the hours
these high priests on whose alter
I drink: Bukowski, Waits, and W. H. Davies
As we say “amen” and take
The body and blood
The music meanders through
The night and is lost
As the nights voice is gone.
Jonathan Beale has 500 plus poems published in Penwood Review, Poetic Diversity, Ink Sweat & Tears, Down in the Dirt, Mad Swirl, Pyrokinection, Ygdrasil, Van Gogh’s Ear, The Beatnik Cowboy, The Jawline Review, Bluepepper, Jellyfish Whispers, The Outsider, and Yellow Mama. His first collection of poetry ‘The Destinations of Raxiera’ is published by Hammer & Anvil. http://www.amazon.co.uk/Destinations-Raxiera-Jonathan-Beale-ebook/dp/B018F6GWQ6/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1452199641&sr=1-1&keywords=jonathan+beale He studied philosophy at Birkbeck College London and lives in Surrey England.