Amorak Huey

INDIANAPOLIS

"They said he didn't know anything about the real downlow blues.
All you had to do was look in his eyes to see that wasn't true."
June 26, 1977

Dull sweet ache of smoke in the air.
Blinding afterbite and motewhirl of lights
in ten thousand dusty shades of white -
I do not exist. The way a song's gone before
you know which notes you're hearing.
Bitter spotlight, glittering costume, so far from home
I cannot remember who I am
or whether I ever was. So many masks. Fear,
truth, lies, lines, bile, when everyone
is your friend no one is. Expectation
limits possibility and standing still
is impossible - silence a pain no pill
can swallow. Listen. They're calling for me.
You think I'm unhappy but that's not what I mean.


CP

Amorak Huey left the newspaper business in 2008 after 15 years as a reporter and editor. He teaches at Grand Valley State University in Michigan, and his poems have appeared in The Southern Review, Contrary, PANK, Rattle, Poet Lore, and elsewhere. More about him at www.amorakhuey.net.