How did I get here? I'm sitting at this old Kansas bar, reading the liquor labels, Malibu, Skyy, Patron, knowing no one, listening in on mundane conversations. It's the same every night, a new spot, new faces, new music, I feel their eyes upon me, the stranger in their midst. Someday I may fit in. I hope, while I wait my turn in the singing rotation, that I'm not unknowable.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
March 2021
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