From Pratik's Upcoming Issue: A Tribute to Jazzman John Clarke by American Poet, Jack Tar

Dearest, Long-Lost Brother Jazzman John Clark!
By JACK TAR

Photo by Chrissy Oosphere Weller 

Sorry I had not heard of you
       heard of you
       heard of you
       heard of you
before I learned that we were       
        brothers, brothers, brothers

Before hearing
       London is Lost,
       New York is lost, Europe is Lost
from Kate Tempest
       and some brother in a Burger Corner in New York.
       that we are lost, we are lost,  we are lost.

I was sorry I did not know
       and argued that I had a brother like you and was sorry I did not know that it was you…
that kept alive
       the red-hot pokers of words
dripping worthless syllables
       on to the cracked lips of passing camel trains camel trains camel trains.
that kept the old poets, Dada…
      all alive on Space Cake Amsterdam

But do know that we, as Yuyu said
        will be meeting in Little Paradise Lodge,
        Paradise Lodge, Paradise Lodge
till the last tweet, tweet, tweet,
       of the last budge in the street
        a Prothonotary, warbling forever now
though dead on the street
        his first flight from the Andes to New York
books are magic  books are magic  books are magic
        as he was freeing Dada
from its early chains of
         misfortune, misfortune, misfortune 

         I thought I did not know you
before Kate Tempest, but you were here first
         With the beats, beats, beats
for our brotherhood and blurb on my works
         that we will still be meeting All the way from
          Kathmandu, Kathmandu, Kathmandu...

With Yuyu, in London,
          Old Delhi, New York,
on the lips of Arriving Camel Trains
           So all won’t be over, over,  over but found in a Little Paradise Lodge.