a bar in prescott, arizona. by jck hnry

face down 

drunk again

Prescott, Arizona

don't ask, I don't recall

a little bar, just off the tourist path

across from the square

and a statue

forgotten whatever

snow litters across yellowing grass

two am

nearly time for the kick out

she wanders in, like an old movie

just like

a forgotten memory

a wisp

of something left behind

before

miles, before

she kicks off the chill

lights a cigarette

smiles

bemusement, I'm guessing

i look at her

with my one good eye

acid etched memories

one night,

had turned into a month

crawling over each other

tasting

touching

wrapped in collective misery

searching for collective reconciliation

she touches my face

in a familiar way

her hands cold

"Jack," 

…she starts

but laughter stops every word

at the kick out

we stagger back

across a wide street

down an alley

to my five and dime rental

bed's too small

but we work through it

i collapse into her soul

and sleep, finally

dream of clear fields and foggy mornings

she whispers my name

again, and again

until I sleep, again

without waking

jck hnry is a neo-modernist, post-apocalyptic writer, living in the hard scrub of a californian desert.  after a 10 year hiatus hnry is back at it.  recent publications include:

includes publication in Horror Sleaze Trash, Bold Monkey, Red Fez, dope fiend daily and a bunch of other noble zines and journals.  Chapbooks/Books: “Snow in Summer and the Playground is Closed,” “Empty Houses-Kendra Steiner Editions,” “the Downtown Cafe (Erbacce Press),” “With the Patience of Monuments (neoPoesis) ,” “Crunked, (Epic Rites)” and “the Righthand Curve of a Continuous Circle. (Blunt Trauma Press).”  hnry is also editor and publisher of "Heroin Love Songs, V2.0, 7thEd" available now. for more go to jackhenry.wordpress.com.