The rust iron wing of a train horn
pinballs down glass and steel canyons,
headlights sweep our shadows past
a mural, circle of hands touching hands
of all colors, framed by two whales
planting songs in a darkening current.
The hope of public art not altering realities
as sirens thorn over a nearby avenue.
The dark boas of city streets hours
from releasing gray dawn, this jazz joint
in full hop and bop, opening door
releasing a river of sax notes plying drum
and piano rhythms as the current
rivulets over iron-mesh caught rocks.
Hot mist catches streetlight yellow
en route to swirl above drain grates,
my veins filling with inks and colors
for page and canvas as I shoulder inside
a jazz solo, guitarist picking through what
aches after my work-week of unloading trucks.
###
Raised in Charleston, S.C., and Chicago, educated at red-bricked universities and on city streets, Charles has worked as a youth counselor, truck driver, city bus driver and enthused bookstore clerk.
Married on a Kauai beach in 2011, a loving Grandfather for five free spirits, Charles inspired work as Poet, Artiste and shareholder in an independent Bookstore’s collective continues! He organizes readings at the store.
And not a few of his poems have been accepted by literary journals, such as The Pedestal, Poetry365, The Criterion [India], Poetry Salzburg [Austria], Battered Suitcase, Future Cycle, The Oyez Review, Poetry Kanto [Japan], Tiger’s Eye and Rio Grande Review!
