i used to wonder
about the thunder—
the rage that got you
through the day
clawing at the walls
of your box
forever cursing
the vacant soul
of sanity—
prehistoric face
sagging like
a barbed wire fence
gazing out through
third-degree eyes
telling me
you ARE “reality”
primal urges
older than dirt—
i listened
to your tales
of ordinary madness
how you taught
a million empty voices
to speak
the language of hard-ass
city streets—
i watched at the end
when your writing
became like your fighting
never knowing
when to stop—
up to your eyes
in accumulated time
to hang on
despite the obvious losses
i looked on
as the fire
began to wane
& the jacked-up
jackals moved in
to pick at your bones
howling their
perfect hate—now
that you are gone

D.B. Cox is a blues musician/poet,
originally from South Carolina.
After graduating from high school
in 1966, he did a four year stint
with the U.S. Marines, then moved
to Boston to attend the Berklee
School of Music, where he eventually
found the blues circuit. He loves
writing for the same reason he loves
playing the guitar-a way to communicate
how he feels at a given time, on a given
day. He now resides in Watertown,
Massachusetts. His writing has been
published online in Zygote In My
Coffee, Remark, Underground Voices,
Dubliner Quarterly and others, and in
print in Aesthetica, Snow Monkey, My
Favorite Bullet and Open Wide Magazine.

© 2006 Underground Voices