On My Way by Jenn Knickerbocker & Jake St. John

On My Way As the delicate snow finds it’s destined path to the ground, I look out and ponder its existence. if it’s real then I’m real alive, thoughts and feelings breath after breath the fragile state of the snow, Continue reading On My Way by Jenn Knickerbocker & Jake St. John

Vagabond Blues by Jake St. John

Vagabond Blues In the stillness of night wind chimes fill the room the train horn blasts me back to shadows the passing racket fades into moonlight my thoughts ride the rails across a distant western prairie where tonight a freight Continue reading Vagabond Blues by Jake St. John

Folded Paper by Jake St. John

Folded Paper for Tom Weigel & Bambino Spinelli Two Italians exchanging money “This ain’t no drug deal” This is different There’s more to it than that The lamb is not over cooked But we might be Turn us over And Continue reading Folded Paper by Jake St. John

Poem for Ernest Hemingway and Jack Hirschman by Jake St. John

Poem for Ernest Hemingway and Jack Hirschman I travelled the country by way of graveyards and back roads the bones of outlaws and writers and outlaw writers piled up in mounds their ghosts walking the streets with us hand in Continue reading Poem for Ernest Hemingway and Jack Hirschman by Jake St. John

Last Call by Jake St. John

Last Call it’s 1:50 a.m. and I don’t know if I’m here or there the city moans in the moonlight the same cats dragging their tails in the street an old newspaper tumbles into the gutter a desolate theater of Continue reading Last Call by Jake St. John

At Ocean Beach by Jake St. John

At Ocean Beach Two junkies sitting on a bench shooting memories in the sun their smiles wide as they get their fix of the past “Man, it was like a blast of Buddhism she loved me when I played that Continue reading At Ocean Beach by Jake St. John

There are no more real rock stars… by Jake St. John

There are no more real rock stars… There are no more real rock stars there are no words or guitars no drums or alcohol no pills or drugs no messages or movements no songwriters or musicians no depression or art Continue reading There are no more real rock stars… by Jake St. John