Inharmonious by Jake A Martinez When I fall asleep, there is an anti-parallel universe that patiently waits in loneliness Like a longing lover staring into a black pool of still water She sighs into the breeze because she can’t distinguish the sable sky from the surrounding darkness She finds herself lost in the night of closed eyelids Waiting not for me—butanti -me The one who knows how to make her smile And when I wake up later, late calling Late arriving—late apologizing We sit in her car listening to the patter of rain Slamming against the metal roof, peeling the charcoal paint at an infinitesimally slow rate I mention that the percussive rain clouds above are grooving in 6/8 Almost like freeform jazz—rebellious, chaotic in appearance but actually a beautiful thing The rhythm is unanticipated, offbeat The melody is selfless and gentle She says, It’s more like they’re crying—oblivious to each others’ tears, not able to compose themselves I nod, looking ahead into the smoky overcast and tell her, No, no—I’m hearing alternating triplets With a downbeat that’s really the rhythm of the blues 120 theMeadow
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