student

April 14, 2008

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

after inflatables
        and Friday night I went to the House
        after making fun of King
        Kong with the brothers
                Dance Marathon we first talked
                then went to Pizza King with Dabs
        accepted oxygen in my water as trees
        dead napkins we returned to Constitution
                played sober via HORSE
                with bottle and recycle bin

earlier I helped Gary with the Poker Mixer
           it was either the cheesy bread
           or Gatorade that got me
     we went to Walgreen’s for beef jerky
           along the way we stopped at Sara’s for Orloff
           at Fisher’s for refried beans

(originally published in Literary Forest, Fall 2022)

Past 4 A.M. at Pizza King

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

wasn’t that how life
was supposed to go?
ah, college followed

the whims of fun.
it turns out I stayed out
too late in its shadow

and now capitalism
is the only one
who wants me to follow.

he says
you’re thirty now
so have some drinks

and pizza
if you want
dab the grease

with a napkin first
but don’t limit
yourself to one

 

(originally published in children, churches, and daddies, Fall 2019)

Editing Room

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

Evenings in the video lab laughing at ourselves acting in
perpetual circles the clicks of play and rewind in a dialogue
with eternity rectangular how to zoom into self with microscope
both of us learning but look at you now in the fighter jet
sky tethered to wirings of small precise instruments of war how
we live in the perpetual unknowing state of     I want you always
to come home even not to me because back then
every small moment was contained in its forever

 

(originally published in Street Light Press, Spring 2018)

How to Be Proud

/ James Croal Jackson / Leave a comment

As I waited for my burger at Northstar
I saw they had copies of The Bitter Oleander,
and on the first page was the work
of my first poetry professor.

Buzzing on metaphor,
I sent an email to tell her
that they’ve also published me before
but it has been a couple of years.

She told me
to sleep it off.

 

(originally published in EgoPHobia, Spring 2018)