James Croal Jackson’s Slice-of-Life Poetry

A Note on Jealousy

When I ran into Heather at Union and said hello 
 Jennifer asked who’s Heather with smoke alarm eyes 
 I said a friend I meant it jealousy is the kind of 
 thing that puts teeth in a line of vision I was jealous
 of your Emi too sometimes one must chomp the 
 string one time I believed I could love without 
 caring about the past but stones settled along 
 the path can still be pushed by gusts under a sky 
 wherein there is no ceiling or ending except 
 for the vastness of our longing in space 

Terminated

Rip the last life-supporting limb off the tree; 
 no money grows here now, no more sustaining green 
  
 glints the grass, just faces of dead men we don't
 know preside over lives with a capital C, 
  
 an initialism for one fewer line stampedes to the future 
 of individual prosperity. Sprint to the edge of the field; 
  
 walk the gravel road until you find another– 
 sharp rocks now splinter through your soles.  

Showdown

At the beach
 a man in each tide,
 men like grains of sand,
 a thousand men between
 your toes.
  
 Bring them
 to our spot
 underneath
 the umbrella.
  
 We shall always be
 beneath
 the shade
 when the sea
 begins its fury. 

An Improv Game

an improv game in the living
 room I am screaming
 someone say I am an alarm
  
 clock or an ambulance
 because my brain is hyper-
 ventilating in this anxiety
  
 of why-can’t-we-play-beer-
 pong on the lawn table this is
 Los Angeles and I am scared
  
 of everything (tsunamis
 falling fronds off palm trees
 car accidents and commitment)
  
 I am trying to make something
 anything up in front of you
 that’s how we stayed together 
  
 for eleven months of I-love-
 you yelling sand in our teeth
 sunburnt toes on the shore 

***