Tuesday 5 May 2020

2 Poems by James Croal Jackson


In these plains I have been

tornado chaos the storm swirling

out of shotglass. Unpredictable

system of bankruptcies this

unknowable thing can become

in a field touching down. Sky

sirens. Muck dust. Lightning

flicks a weary finger– my hand

on your back my funnel

into sky a violin sirensong,

a tenuous tremolo.


I strive for greatness a small rock

slips off my tongue    words

on the verge of something cosmic

a novel expanding underneath each



James Croal Jackson (he/him) has a chapbook, The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights Press, 2017), and poems in Jenny, *82 Review, and Reservoir. He edits The Mantle (themantlepoetry.com). Currently, he works in the film industry in Pittsburgh, PA. (jimjakk.com)

No comments:

Post a Comment