Give me sticky Saturday afternoons
when we drink beer and make love —
the sun streaming through dusty blinds.
Give me quiet evenings when the floor is swept
and Flamenco guitarists sing of the exuberance
of lovers in rooms without clocks.
Let’s stay awake all night listening to the trains
until sleep overtakes us and we dissolve
into the humid geography of each other’s flesh.
I want to fall under the spell of that tragic guitarist
who sings to distant trains that cry
beneath the moon’s stone face.
I want to taste the damp tremolo of your breath,
as flakes of sunlight dance across your body
on lazy Saturday afternoons, with no thought of time.
— Jason Irwin
Jason Irwin is the author of Watering the Dead (Pavement Saw Press, 2008), winner of the Transcontinental Poetry Award, and the chapbooks Where You Are (Night Ballet Press, 2014), and Some Days It’s A Love Story (Slipstream Press, 2005). A Blister of Stars is new this year from Low Ghost Press. His work has been published in Poetry East, Sycamore Review, Confrontation and Poetry Ireland Review, among others. He grew up in Dunkirk, N.Y., and now lives in Edgewood. Many writers featured in Chapter & Verse are guests of Prosody, produced by Jan Beatty and Ellen Wadey. Prosody airs every Saturday morning on WESA 90.5 FM.