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  • Writer's pictureKate Clarke

The Dark End of The Street

The Dark End of The Street

(for Alyce Guynn)

Your sister, Alyce, reminded me

what, in my grief, I had forgotten

and later on, I came to see

myself, in some film of you

New Jersey, a radio interview.

You were heading for Hoboken

chasing down Frank’s shadow.

It was shot a month before we met

The month you called ‘Magnetic May’

There you were, chattering away

in the studio, being the performer

talking of Nashville, Cowboy Jack Clement

“his battered boots were alligator.”

And there it was. There he was.

Bruised boy, flimsy as gauze

voice subdued, heart a lead weight.

What was it you used to say?

“I was singing on the sad side of the note.”

We were at the dark end of the street

for sure, right at the start

It didn’t take long for you to stand taller

Didn’t Alyce say “I found my jazz”?

The man in black, discovered colour

I did that. You did that too.

Look at what two fools can do

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