Love Song to Blues by Andrew Hemmert

Love Song to Blues


It is important to remember

the blues note is an imperfection.

It sits between right and right, it is out

of key. It is important to remember

the blues note is not an imperfection.

It is color, it covers melody

with brine, ocean weeds, covers floating wood

with electric jelly. It is good enough

for leaving, for longing, for serenading

Beelzebub with nickel string flowers

and candied starfish in jars without hearts

or minds or eyes. Feel it. It is not something

you can hear, after all

the trees die from soaking their roots

in salt blood, in desperation. Chromatics come

from wild earth. Listen to the world,

it radiates dissonance. Acorns fall

and rattle off branches like tone deaf pianos.

The blues note accepts water

in lungs, if it is true. It swallows sorrow like air.

It interjects, it follows bees and rivers

to continent edges, it kneels on knives

and shells and rocks and it is important

to remember the incisions

on its legs, on its atria, do not deserve

to be stitched and perfect. When it tries

to fix itself with alcohol, with platelets,

forbid it.


Andrew Hemmert


Andrew Hemmert is a sixth-generation Florida native, and Florida’s leaked into his work on more than one occasion.


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