Jackson

Humanity: a species that survives by burning things and each other. Smoke in my eyes so I take them out and put them away Marching’s hard so I decommission my legs Speaking hurts so I shut down my tongue But I forget my ears, Harmony. Sing, put the tears back into our eyes, bang the… Read more

You call. I hear you. As I hear you, I touch you. As I touch you, I know you. As I know you, I love you. As I love you, I see you— Oh let me see you!        a vision? Let me see you!        a prison Oh let me see you!        a… Read more

you are around my neck you are in my ears you are on my fingers and wrists and ankles your leather frames my back your denim defines my legs your words line my gut and your movements drive the valves and muscles of my big red heart. Read more

His knobs, his dials his bricks and his tiles raking in piles His art, his tries his big mud pies His lips and his prick making you sick His starving eyes Your faking and lies … Read more

Your eyes, your hands, your naked crackling messaging eyes and hands, your cloudy-sky-blue eyes and suave suede hands, the healing highrise hellfire of your hands, and the output from your mouth, the medication from your mouth, your mezzanine interface mouth— the marginalia of your mouth, your desperate mouth. First published in WordThirst Read more

On TV, they’re repeating Billy Connolly, with his Britain, Ireland, Scotland travelogue. His comedy, art, respect. I have a book from the library. British, Irish, Scottish poetry since 1945. Cold moors and stones and canals. Old wars, prisons, suicides. Women both hopeless and whimsical. The democratic voice. The Irish poets resonate like a bell in… Read more