I GOT THE BLUES SO BAD MY BLUES GOT THE BLUES by DuVay Knox

Poetry

My life is STUCK on the Blues.

I cant CRY the Blues.

Away.

I cant EAT/The Blues.

Away.

I cant SLEEP/The Blues.

Away.

I cant SHIT/The Blues.

Away.

I cant FUCK/The Blues.

Away.

Cuz the BLUES are….

Real/Shit.

Authentic/Stank.

Smelly/Funk.

Cumming out yo Pores.

The Blues aint a FIGMENT of Yo Imagination.

The BLUES are….

Inconvenient/Truth.

Rejection/By/Sertain/Peeple.

The BLUES wannabe Yo FRIEND.

FOREVER.

The BLUES wanna take Up Yo TIME.

Becuz the Blues….

are SELFISH.

The Blues are jealous like-a-muthafucka:

The Blues are JEALOUS of yo HAPPINESS.

The Blues are Jealous of yo DESIRE.

The Blues are Jealous of yo VIRTUE.

The Blues….

are SUSPICIOUS.

The Blues are Suspicious of KINDNESS.

The Blues are Suspicious of GOOD INTENTIONS.

The Blues dont TRUST NOBODY or NO THING.

The BLUES wanna Accompany You….on the RIDE of Yo Life.

And The Blues dont care if U dont have SPACE for Them in Yo life–cuz The

Blues will ride on the bottom of Your god-dam SHOES while U Kick up Dust

as U trudge round HOMELESS.

Cuz The Blues dont CARE as long as The Blues — kan be WIT You/INSIDE

You/ON You/EMBRACE You/LOVE You.

The Blues just wanna: LIVE wit U/DIE wit U.

The Blues dont wannabe left alone.

So The Blues wanna: Cause Yo DEATH

Then….

Leave You Alone in yo casket/In the Dirt/While it finds sumbody ELSE To be

Friends Wit.

–AND BE THE BLUES.


DuVay Knox is originally from the Mississippi Delta inclusive of New Oreleans and the greater deep south. Now lives in New Orleans’ Sister City, St. Louis, Missouri. He specializes in writing flash and microfiction stories as well as gritty, urban-driven black pulp fiction novellas.