Lady Sings the Blues

At the jukebox

it’s always the same song,

one for the lonely.


The cold change

forced into the slot

to pull the record from

its sleep.


The needle jabs at the delicate vinyl

trying to find a vein,

the signal howls pain through crackling speakers.


The lady stands back and

lets the jukebox soothe,

and in the empty bar

the lady sings the blues.


A version of this poem first published in Vox Poetica, Contributor Series 9, June 2011

Author: Mark William Jackson

Mark William Jackson's work has appeared in various print and online journals, including Best Australian Poems 2011, Going Down Swinging, Cordite, Popshot (UK), Rabbit, Page Seventeen, SpeedPoets and The Diamond & the Thief. Mark's debut poetry collection "The Frequency of God" is available now through all major outlets, see for details.


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