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.
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