This site contains a few pieces that use ‘swear’ words or relate to sex or other ‘adult themes’.

Jackson

Writer. Poet. Editor.

My writing

My writing that is published on this site, including lots of creative commons poetry.

  • white boys

    I like white boys I like them translucent the black t-shirt sleeve-edge, white bicep curve the cool nape, tide-touch hairline the black sock, thin sparse-haired ankle the Cleopatra-milk-bath hands, stark knuckles and nails the diffident fingerprints he puts on me the fierce streak of black inside him First published on Fringe Gallery’s blog Read more

  • thin

    ,

    There’s a live radio version from 2012 in this interview. His piss in the toilet, his siren sweat in the air: gone, in the light. In the sink, a glass, his lick dried on it somewhere. In the open bin, on the tissues and plastic, two knotted condoms, 3am, 4am. He wouldn’t stay till morning, Read more

  • nightstick

    the confrontationist warrior agenda the personal vendetta the entourage of quiet women “FUCK AUTHORITY FUCK THE POLICE FUCK COPYRIGHT FUCK THIS FUCK THAT FUCK YOU, CUNT” when you no longer use that word to mean disempower and that other one to mean victim then maybe I will believe Read more

  • Still haven’t

    I don’t see my shape anymore. It seems to have wandered off. No, I think I may have left it on a plane Poor stunted Can’t say a meaningful thing without a “!” between us and We look for and it takes either one certain or the world—or at least several roomfuls of These children Read more

  • half

    On the first day    at the beach I walk east into a howling Holding my black hat on my Then I go back On the second day it rains I work on my On the third day it’s calm I walk east again Flies diving in under my black Trying to get under my sunglasses Feet—only—in Read more

  • Alone before the plasma screen

    He handed her a feather a tall black feather pulled from his tail, said take this home with you. Was that all he could spare? One feather? His tail and wings were ragged. Maybe he wandered around leaving a trail of feathers in this place and that place, the flicky ash of his personality, his Read more