Jack Reynolds Poems

Leaves fell as we slung our lives upon our shoulders. The hall smelled of dust, and the walls were peeling, but if I reached my arm far enough I could touch the surface of the sky. I smiled.

Early on, I had true wisdom under my fingernails. But I scoffed at it, and I was ignored. I went to a school for the blind. Although my teachers spoke with pleasant tone, only I could see their gnashing teeth and forked tongues.
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If I remember back far enough, I can see fluorescent yellows and spirits and anonymity. The allegro of the room pulsated through my jugular, and vibrant partygoers quibbled smiles and shouts of ecstasy as we departed into oblivion.

When I had arrived, Pride came and sat on my lap. I found her galling. I roughed her up.
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