Jackson

A bookish young hipster named Sam once entered a poetry slam. When his poem came third He declaimed, “How absurd! This whole fucking concept’s a sham.” Read more

The light has to get somewhere, touch something, to exist You take acid as we’re sitting in the air The old woman pours whitewash over her husband’s head We’re on the left There’s no box, no comfort zone Anything but raw paper is a compromise Two girls with acne and stringy bleached hair Occupy Wall… Read more

I met him on the road like I wanted but we were walking in opposite directions We rested and talked a while That     was all I met him on the road like I wanted We were walking in the same direction but I could see shapes in the distance and got ahead of him When     I looked… Read more

In case I meet you on the road I will don my sharpest clothes shine my boots gird up my guts soften my hands confine my hair practise my words arrange my face squeegee my eyes check my teeth      in the cracked mirror I will don my sharpest clothes in case I meet you on… Read more

Lao Tzu says dwell with the fruit, not the flower. The flowers sun themselves and fall from the vine The fruits get pulped between teeth, under heels But you, my beloved, are beyond all that. Long-stemmed, you’re not the flower. Liquid-hipped, you’re not the fruit. You, lucent, sunlight-scented, you, wooded, oblivion-tongued, only you, Essence, are… Read more