Poems
by James Croal Jackson

 

 

Grieving

 

Today I saw you you looked healthier but you didn't notice me I had searched for you everywhere

 

 

 

 

 

Seeking Gloves in Maryland

 

The Awakening is closed

beach sand in January wind

face two stone hands

 

there is a mall seven miles

away we stand in Starbucks

warmth refusing service

 

holding hands

I wish I could give

you my skin

 

 

 

 

 

18,000 Cows

 

In the Texas farm

explosion, some survive but

most are too wounded.

The farmer says they

will have to kill these things,

as if they are things,

not breathing beings,

not gentle in their low-

pitched songs. And I know.

I eat meat. I am part

of the system that makes them

sing then suffer then die.

 

 

 

 

 

Do-Over

 

I want to splurge on dive bars and thrift stores

I want a shore brimming with relics

 

in our endless quest for cash

in our ceaseless self-tweaking

 

I wish I were young again

instead of scrounging for change

 

this time I would do with less greed

more humility

 

without peaks

without verdicts

 

I'd be a sip of Scotch whiskey

a tyrant with a mild vice

 

who would admire the painting

without caring who painted it

 

 

 

 

 

Losing My Mind

 

                   Zoom (April 2020)

 

there was Wayne there was Jess alive in front

 of my mind my eyes were screening a scream

 inside (I am) beside all distance what I 

look forward to is where is forward

everything behind me the bluewhite walls

pushing      pushing

 

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