half-sunk in a bog you take a photo and I say no nono not quite like Amy Winehouse but if we sing to
a hedonistic youth I want to enter every swamp and declare my love for alligator bites you say
you’re taking an artistic risk you swear will pay off because yesterday after rent you went
to the post and mailed a hundred letters to a hundred lovers I held your scratched satchel you said would
become the mark of our marked love and there isn’t enough space in this world to become expendable
not with seven point seven billion hungry humans all seeking something different
James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. He has three chapbooks: Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022), Our Past Leaves (Kelsay Books, 2021), and The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights, 2017). He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, PA. (jamescroaljackson.com)
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License (CC-BY-NC-ND 4.0)
