You Cannot Be Free
By Wayne Jackson 1950-1989
You cannot be free
of demons
they say.
To be free of them you
must be dead
as sticks
as shit
and the star comes out again
Big
and
Big
I tilt my head back
look
at the ceiling
The reflected light
from the pool outside
form shadows
that flicker and turn
I smoke cigarette after cigarette
I pick a twisted fruit
the sun shines through the
bare
bare
trees
***