James Croal Jackson
at ineffable cà phê
she has your smile wooden
walls make me claustrophobic
always in this moment she is
you we live in the same city
again instead of daffodil fields
bricks and pavement between
us I can’t help but drive the distance
two blocks til my mouth is aflame
with jalapenos and sriracha on this
red bed of rice I am dreaming of
when we were younger I am trying
to push away the thought but memory’s
off its leash running free into green
paint bike lane sometimes this roof
sounds like a galloping horse on top
yet there is no rain you wreck me
with eye contact in this room of
pendants beams from inverted skillets
some bulbs are webs of black boba
The Dark
I lay in the dark. Still as a spider
I haven’t yet decided if I am
going to kill. I am done giving
meaning to arduousness. I could
quit my job but another will fill
it. With worthlessness. The oval
mirror reflects nothing
without the presence of light.
