Ghost Note

from Fight Naked by Jon Fazzaro

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This is the voice of a ghost.
This is the permanent echo of words from a mouth sewn closed.

This is the voice of a ghost.
This is the bifurcated pulse of a broken heart without a host.

This is a note from a song that doesn't care.
It's decomposed.

Blowing out the candles again, and I am spitting in the wind.
Clawing at the curtains of relevance, and trying to pretend with my best laid pretense that this is not the end.

I tried to call myself up on the telephone.
I tried to knock on the door at my old home.
I used my old phone number and everything,
but the old me just wasn't answering.

This is the voice of a ghost.
This is the cheshire smile of the kid who played guitar,
and the wash of a fading reverb scar.

The disembodied voice of a ghost drank a little red wine, and dreamed that he was a portmanteau, haunted in the ear by some beautiful dissonance that drowned everything but the descant of his beloved family.

Well, quid pro quo, baby.

They see the confident walk of a man who fits well in his clothes.
But in the shrug of his shoulders is a darkness that nobody knows.

This is the voice of a ghost.
This is the canned refrain of a spirit now passed on.
He used to walk there next to you, but now he's gone.
He told me the only thing we have to do is fall,
and that our echoes are not permanent at all.

Wake, my boy.
Come out and feel the sun, and tend the garden of all that you have been.

Wake, my son.
Come out and smell the rain, and tell me the story of who you are again.


from Fight Naked, track released June 10, 2019


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Jon Fazzaro Fort Wayne, Indiana

Quid pro quo, baby.

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