My Uncle who is Jack
Is the coyote that wails at dawn
The lizard hibernating under sand beneath the winter sun
My Uncle who is Jack plays the base like a thunder storm
Boom ba doom boom goes the strings that vibrate beneath his bony fingers
My Uncle who is Jack is the heart beat of the music
He was in a band you know and before that he was a doctor and before that he was in the army
That’s where he learned to play the base and make pancakes, in the army
Deep golden brown ones, good to eat with sticky maple syrup
He teaches me how to mix the flours and molasses
Beat the eggs in the copper pot
Test the skillet
We fry our pancakes and my Uncle Jack tells stories of the good old days
He has an anecdote for everything
The world is a different place now, he says, but not worse, we just have different problems
My Uncle who is Jack is concrete, immovable, and dad gum smart
He is like the gnarled grapefruit tree outside his Arizonian window
The smell after a monsoon in the desert
My Uncle who is Jack