Wherever I have been, them blues, they run the game (Jackson C Frank)
Baptised in whisky, damp matches, damp cigarette,
a chewed-up pen top, notebook filled with music,
a neat hand, black ink, black stars in a paper white
universe – his blood singing – the harmonies of pain
recorded. His dreams of flying, of jumping from
the moon’s switchblade, arms out, hair streaming,
a galaxy of choirs orchestrating the fall.
Lesley Quayle is prize-winning poet, former editor of Aireings and author. Her work has appeared in Tears in the Fence, The interpreters House, Ink, Sweat and Tears and the North. She is also a folk and blues singer.