Corey Jack debuts: a poem of the 1980’s

Crash

 

Crash

 

Jack, waking to a sense…

Something stronger than a sense, he tells himself, a revelation

No, not wholly that

A reverberation

A weight about the size of a DC10, going crash

One he sees in retrospect was then

The crashing down of a tired, useless epoch

A life of swine and swill

In which he hadn’t known his power

That underlying birth persona

Put out of the way, like he’d done his former wife

Jack is a man who can acquit himself

Corey never could

But Corey thinks Jack might also make an end

Of the weak-making mother who’d tried to box him in

Yeah, he’s heard about it, Jack has

Consultants in the countryside

Squatting round the campfire

Hey, buddy, let me tell you

Since I got out, I feel so alive

And every time they try to throw the cuffs on

I’m gonna step aside

 

And everybody who tells this story, tells it alike

About a roaming band of satanic cultists

You can’t see ’em, they’re like black ice

Suppose the perfect joker could commit the perfect crime

It’s no good Corey says, searching for his next personality

You can’t flush me out by telling me I’m stupid

I’m the guy who beat the system

 

Actors Act

 

Copyright 2017 Stephanie Foster

 

 

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