Before I drag myself into work every morning, I sit in my car in parking lots—the only public places left that don't come with a soundtrack--and read poetry. Currently, I'm into Merrill Gilfillan, Steve Scafidi, Tom Clark and Tom Hennen. My new book of poems is Appalachian Night. It is available from me at no cost: just email email@example.com.
The Last Days of My Life
Maybe they will resemble the last days of high school,
when you suddenly click with someone
you have known for years
but were never close to, a new best friend who says
he loves The Harder They Come
nearly as much as you,
and his orange Camaro sucks down gas
but who cares and you drive all night
and toss the empties and eat shrimp
at Denny's at three in the morning
because there is no tomorrow,
never mind tomorrow
is here and tomorrow rocks. Goddamn, did you ever notice?
Or maybe when that girl
you sat next to in Spanish
blooms before your eyes and her dishwater hair and glasses
are the original quirks on a sunny afternoon
in May, and you kiss and kisses
were never this fine before.
The days are long, the nights are sweet
and if you lived by the sea
you sat on the sea wall, which held back
your laughter and all the delicious,
talk of holding on,
of staying there forever.
Jimmy Cliff in The Harder They Come (1972)
"The Last Days of My Life" first appeared in Parable Press
©2015 Mark Jackley