Pacific Avenue by C.W. Blackwell

CW: violence, alcohol

I remember cigarette smoke—

a stratum of strange weather

in the pool hall, the clashing

of Bakelite billiards,

pitchers of cheap lager

volcanoed at their edges,

how I stepped to the curb and felt

the city breathe, smelled the road’s

rain-sour pitch, heard music in

the alley—was it a tenor or baritone?

Candles in seductive windows,

a gloss of dandelion on cracked walls,

tree branches shadowboxing

with streetside headlights where

men cursed and laughed and

women embraced street lamps in

rum-drunk heels, the moon

hanging like a pill to be swallowed—

and I thought maybe I was born to

lean under neon signs and to

feel that hot electric midnight stir

the hair on the back of my arms.

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C.W. Blackwell is an American crime fiction author and poet. His recent poetry has appeared in Close to the Bone's 4.4 Series, Versification, The Five-Two, Anti-Heroin Chic, Punk Noir, and Dead Fern Press. His upcoming poetry collection, River Street Rhapsody, will appear in Spring 2022 from Dead Fern Press. Twitter: @CW_Blackwell Instagram: @cw_blackwell_writer