Jim and The American Night

Lost next to the Earth’s highway
the stranger stands firm, unscathed hunting the
American Night.

He pulls off his shirt. The hot air breathes life on his tired skin.

Abandoned, lonely, he walks defiantly
across the black asphalt.
A road cuts through the pale desert.

Dry and angry, he counts his losses.
Diamond backed and hard, his eyes stand void.

Thumb out reached and gallant, his gaunt figure is imagined.
Traveling through and to another side of time,

He sees a lone car slip through the sun.
It is blue, fast, controlled but reckless.

Driving up the mirrored road,
the stranger watches the cold movement.

What is real except imagined?
Rich girl in her husband’s BMW sees the light on the other side.
Her thighs point the way.

She travels the straight highway
looking for a hard… rough exterior.
She drives fast and dangerously,
her mind in reckless abandonment.

An old man touches pleasure’s spot.
Whisky’s water makes it right.
She thinks of other things,
dances, shadows escaping the horizons,

She sees a creature ahead, forbidden and sinful.
She slows and stops – doors left open.

A masquerade of time permeates the arid day.
He slithers his moment and feels the heat warm his cold blood.

Carelessly the woman wants to touch the wonted beast.
He is beautiful ( but forbidden).

He enters and sits.
The exterior is smooth and leather.
He eases in deep,

Lunar children dance the night;
forgotten, missing, lonely — 
never to return
to hunt the American Night.


Joseph St. John