Poems—James Croal Jackson
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Shared Wall
that rhythmic dog
barks in triplets
a sunshine sestina
rips my hair out
Someone Near Is Killing Cats
Pulp songs play on speakers at the local
café, everyone suspicious of each other
without saying. As I think this, the long-
haired, scrawny man near me ties his
laptop cord into a noose and tucks it in
his backpack, looks westward when
the barista again mentions the string
of killings– yesterday on this same
street, a cat found wrapped in a bag
of torture. Though this man is likely
innocent, when he leaves I leave, too,
looking into the neighborhood’s
eyes. I walk briskly home through
fall’s new bite to hold my cats and
tell them to keep far from windows–
what’s outside is all
that can hurt you, ever.
Waiting for Wedding
ghost beside green door with eye for flowers
a bouquet of white paint haunting the forest
the screen door divides two world paleness
palpable in sclera gold in the necklace atop
bumps and ridges risen along skin ovation
Rectangular Rainbow
The clouds induce trance on the drive
home from work today. White sheep pile
atop each other on a ranch in Montana
until the weight of an oncoming storm
that never comes except for a stub of
rainbow that peeks from behind far hills.
In the open stretch of highway it reveals itself
as a rectangle floating in the middle of cerulean,
squiggly lines across it, a glitch of physics
my phone cannot capture. I text you from
the middle lane– soaring eighty– because
you love rainbows. You say you walked
around our block but could not find it.
When I arrive home I am filled with unknown,
spiritual vigor. We split a red, frozen pizza
then leave for a journey following our favorite
clouds above, on high alert for the rainbow.
Guided by pink translucent clouds in blue
outlines, you ask me holistically, what are your
career goals? I can’t stop searching upward,
awestruck by the air and rare beauty
in the world, in the center of our elevated
city of bridges and transitions and roads
that fall into each other in chaos you
must understand to survive. The sunset
is somewhere and I know our clouds
obscure it. I know my career involves
sacrifice but I am chasing film’s thrill.
The whims of our uppermost winds!
I have taken you along.
Simple Mechanics
So specific, the worthless
I know. Pre-Whale Aronofsky
and 90’s Final Fantasy.
Meanwhile, you know
biology, the human body,
femur vs. tibia, saving
lives AND money.
Dad fixed cars,
my brother fixes
bikes and houses.
I hum Uematsu
with open window
at night to listen to
the conditioner. Its drone
has been the backdrop
in life that propelled me
to this precipice of
lack-of-wizardry
in the mechanics
of everything: how
to assemble a desk.
How to prioritize
the day. How to
respond to the world,
you say. My eyes have
given sleep a second
thought. I won't
recall trigonometry.
Or dig through digits
of pi for meaning. Won't
dribble a basketball and sing
simultaneously. All I know
is I exert force from crab
claws to fling the ball into
air without understanding
how birds’ wings
work. That's what
I'm saying. Simple
mechanics make me
miss you.
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