Jazz After Kiss
by CARY BABCOCK
Frazzled feedback fizzes forever from far figments
fragmented through frantic friendships fathoming
This begins another study in static.
Captured, contained by collections of molecules
like the tinkling of piano keys evolving through
heat and tapping drum runs, bass buzz, and
saxophone blurting out how we all feel.
Speakers hum like an oncoming thunderstorm.
Bellowing passion emerges out of the horn, a boac
onstrictor of sound slithers across the floor,
working through legs of tables and chairs.
Every time I touch my embroidered lips, it calls back
the singularity of open and dark air of our brief
collision when this town settled into a slumber.
A shadow rigid with observation, like letters in a line.
Just like the line down the bar, faces leaving places
behind for other faces, unruly and distasteful. As the edges
of our molecules meet on the brink of attraction,
the music disentangles with all the rest of universal melody.
CARY LEE BABCOCK is a poet and fiction writer from Easton, PA with the chill of Maine winter in his veins. With his BFA in Creative Writing from the University of Maine at Farmington, he has been published through multiple presses such as The Unrorean, The Final Draft, and Serpent Club Press. He is compelled to share his writing to illuminate a new perception of life in a dusty, dark America.