Insects

Blue Beetle

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

shining
in the sunlight
of our driveway

I go inside
to tell Dad

come see
what
I
found

no hesitation:
he squishes
its golden
guts out

a thing like
that

he says

is nothing
more
than a nuisance

but I keep
thinking
about that beetle

impossibly one
of a kind

and today
I watched
a boring

black
beetle

scurrying
across
the pavement
of Goodale Park

and disappear
into grass

and I thought

the ground
is teeming
with beetles

if I just dig
a hole
deep enough

I might
be able
to apologize

 

(originally published in Pouch, Fall 2018)

Ant Gel

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

Fill the cracks so the ants can’t infest.
This is the poison applied for feeding:

urine-yellow icky glue sealing lips
to take home to another body. Sometimes

words stick where I open my mouth–
the crevice between us not letting you in.

I, too, have brought small gifts back
underground thinking them an olive

branch. Each attempt kills one way
or another. Malignant misinterpretations.

I return with this pellet of words.
This killing I never meant to witness.

 

(originally published in Abstract Magazine, Fall 2017)

 

How to Hit on Ladies

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

suck in the vacuous space
separating the lines of the
ceiling and the hard cross
of vagary carpet mites –

wave the dueling paintbrushes
until the rims break but ever
so coquettishly whisk
the centipede eyelashes –

twist the crescent mouth to hark
the worthy obeisance of
patriot songs in a way that
conducts mosquito perseverance –

patch the augered suitcase leaking
carrot water but do it so
the bullish cockroach shells
remain intact and walking –

reassure her that the future
is a flowing faucet unhinged
like the music of the Grecian
harmonica in gathered cicadas –

 

(originally published in Euphemism – Vol. 11, Issue 1)