Jeff Alessandrelli

A Nina Simone song playing in your head

The sun sets in the mountains

with a canvassed quickness.

In the summer, the winter, spring.

The lungs and ribs of every cloud

are newly born and transparent.

You can see the stars!

Counting the darkness is impossible, verily impossible!

Back in town if your boss thinks you’re guilty of something

you’re guilty of something,

but not out here, not tonight.

In the mountains

and when the sun goes down

and the thicked marble slab of the dark.

Your cheeks, your eyelashes, are anti-heirs

to a thousand municipal ordinances here.

The ruddy dirt, the announced silence.

The unannounced silence. 

You can see the stars tonight!

Shining and bright!

Jeff Alessandrelli is the author of the little book Erik Satie Watusies His Way Into Sound and the chapbook Don’t Let Me Forget To Feed the Sharks. He currently lives in Lincoln, NE, where he co-curates The Clean Part Reading Series. Recent poetry by him appears or will appear in Gulf Coast, Salt Hill, Redivider and Boston Review.