osu

my cigarette-smoking badass waitress
the Bible I’ll defenestrate at 3 A.M.

Mary I went to Catholic school
while Josh played bagpipes at the Oval

Absorb tradition with sugary cocktails
I didn’t say a word in the play

as Pontius Pilate I wouldn’t
have contributed

Watch men get crucified by wine
Watch women excise their seven demons

this party’s a tomb
of sacred skeletons

leave it to the wild dogs to feast
on the bottles of Jagermeister

we drink blue glasses
of Zombie in the corner

(originally published in Down in the Dirt, Winter 2020)

& she celebrates among the drunken dead at the Horseshoe

how ball-missiles fly through air and land cradled in young idols’ arms

I remember this,
                                            fear of missing out– no: just missing
                                                                                                               fumbling
                         no want to pull winter hat over my ears

I drink spiked cider reminding me the summer river

no breathing fire into my palms into
the frigid heart of Columbus. No,
I am waiting for the pedestrians to pass my house. Mostly decked in red, some
in opposing green, almost like Christmas, but without–

family knows the apples I douse in vodka.

family knows my unwell.
family knows my eye toward the wind I find too cold
& blow against

been awhile since Kylie & I were breathing the same air
& I’ve got a kind of sixth sense for it

(I see dead people)

but not in a ghost way more like everyone I pass has ghosted
(the phantom passes in public)

& it’s true we both head home for the Christian holidays.
Xmas, xgiving.

Cars passing the same routes
to different destinations.

Desolate highway.

Kylie’s down the street & I’m drowning here
making a scene

her silhouette at the surface joyous
but occupied

(originally published in Qwerty, Spring 2018)

James Croal Jackson

Poet / Editor

For Halloween I’ll be Jesus You Be Mary Magdalene

Wingdings

Alley Walk Into the Dark Park