Jack 'a Diamonds was a Hard Card to Play

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Jack 'a Diamonds was a Hard Card to Play

Post by RCJames » Tue Jul 30, 2019 6:37 am


Saturday nite the gamblers say
you could hear the guitar
a mile away, no lie.

Men who picked 250 pounds
of cotton everyday
picked up the cards dealt them
in a ramshackle house
down a dirt road
with Texas winter comin' in.

I know the house burnt down
but get to the ruins
see the spot where song
turned to vision, created magic,
transformed pain.

Walk to the end of the road,
a tenant farmer's house
looks out over the river,
everything is still,
cows stare me dumb.

I have no memories of this place,
I don't belong here.
I'm not a slave, not a tenant farmer,
my family didn't come here from Africa,
I'm from a privileged group
of people up north, I'm a thief,
of sorts.

What I imagine is someone else's story,
and I believe I got it wrong.
I only have mine, I can't live this one,
only listen to those who know it,
a steady, slow blues
born of long endurance.

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