perfect earth… Jack Henry


she said, good girls don’t do that
and i smiled, but you are not a good girl, in that sense
there is that, she said
crowded streets swallow us
i can barely breath
wet heat lays atop my skin
bruising my ambition but not my need
nothing seems to touch, especially the sky

i don’t know if we should, she said
but we’ve already done it twice, i said
i want to
i know…

we met the night before, by accident it would seem
my host abandoned me for an 18 year old cigarette girl
with Bambi eyes and shiny teeth
alone from my corner i watched boxers and dancers
move with equal precision

her skin is the color of perfect earth
rich and full, eager to blossom, to stretch, to yearn
eyes that watch my every step, knowing the
conclusion before i begin

i pull her into a doorway and kiss her
we don’t do that here, she said
of course you do, i’m not naïve, i said

my hands move down her back, never
leaving smooth skin, her flesh cool
against a rising sun
this isn’t love, she said, it’s just the moment
let’s not waste it, i said

the television plays in the background as unwashed children
play in dirty streets, the sounds of electric rickshaws and
motorbikes cough up through my window – a ceiling fan
complains every fifth turn – an elegant sky turns vermilion –
there are oranges in a bowl on a table near a train station –
nothing but static on a fifty year old radio –
i am languid in a pool of sheets – a soft breeze drifts across
the Ganges – she left a note sprayed in delicate perfection,
i leave it sealed and settled and head for the door

2 Responses to “perfect earth… Jack Henry”

  1. jck hnry, writer/poet/bounty hunter, lives in Southeastern California at the footstep of the Mojave Desert. Formerly a supporter of higher education for Creative Writers, jck now believes that the best education is stolen from the lives of others. he’s been published here and there, and has a webpage at:

  2. nice work. Long time fan of the Jack….

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