2 poems by James Croal Jackson


For the last hot day of April, we were the bristled paintbrush
stroke of an old fluttering-in-wind canvas
flag of a few years ago when all of us were inseparable,
every event a celebration of us. We’re a little older,
a little more tired with each sip of boxed wine
means waking up a little earlier, sun a sharper razor.


backward signs gray silver
curved necks of lights and opened arms
reaching reaching reaching
not high enough
not low enough to grab
American Cab out of business
blue 333-3333
cops on horseback
off to Wendy’s Arby’s Tee Jaye’s
down High
down low
all this green and exit
you must enter somewhere
James Croal Jackson's poetry has appeared in The Bitter Oleander, Rust + Moth, Bop Dead City, and elsewhere. His first chapbook is forthcoming from Writing Knights Press. He is the 2016 William Redding Memorial Poetry Contest winner in his current city of Columbus, Ohio. Visit him at jimjakk.com.

James Croal Jackson is the author of The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights Press, 2017). His poetry has appeared in Hobart, FLAPPERHOUSE, Yes Poetry, and elsewhere. He edits The Mantle, a poetry journal. Find him in Columbus, Ohio or at jimjakk.com.

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