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Jason Henry

the breakbeat boosts
her belief
that she has to live
in Portland

she’s yelling over
the speaker system
and my concern that
she’s running from something

she’s running from
something that
Portland’s silence will only hide
for a time

we separate and sojourn from
our stubbornness
for some soup
and sativa

the odd couple rock and wine
and I laugh to myself
that they’ll do this more
in Canada

than they ever will here

prophets are never
loved in their hometown
and neither are scientists

when the cold
smothers you to death
you will remember how warm
water pipes can be

after it bakes in the
Patrick City sun

the dance floor
is a blood sacrifice
and by Levitical law
our sins shall be washed away

for as much as we
bun out Babylon,
many of us here tonight
under the sanguine moon

have visited foreign gods
and taken their gold
for our own;
Selassie hides His wrath

for we are a wicked people
and God is a jealous god;
we are his children,
the sheep of disaster

he wants what’s best for us;
we miss the irony

baby girl and I have resumed
as the reverb
slaps the spliff we share

she reiterates her point,
I don’t like repeating myself;
she asks me where would
I want to live


happy resentment rejuvenates
her presumption
that I am a difficult man

I am merely projecting
my fears, baby girl;
but I don’t know that,
not yet

I wouldn’t tell you
how I felt
if I hadn’t already
suffered a similar fate

I wouldn’t warn you
about what you may
be missing
if I didn’t care

“but I like Negril too”

you already told her
what she wanted to hear,
shut up

Jason Henry is a blogger, screenwriter, former educational psychologist but primarily a nerd who does too much. He was shortlisted for the 2020 Poet Laureate of Jamaica Edward Baugh Prize and his blog posts have been featured in The Good Men Project, The Startup, Mind Cafe and Data Driven Investor. His poetry can be found at @satdayclass

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