James Croal Jackson
“A Cockatrice Couple”
&
“What Else”
A Cockatrice Couple
Watching cardinals by the window, I expect them
to drop dead. But they never. Instead, we keep drinking
bird-themed beers and fly in orbit around each other’s
other lovers, because when we are drunk we call ourselves
a cockatrice couple, the way we span to such great lengths
to say, we’re blooming, there’s nothing wrong, we bloom.
Always, we come down to earth and say we can’t, never
could. When we land in water, our human qualities
return. Can’t withstand
the current.
What Else
On a towel eating Lays
at the shore of Lake Erie’s
ocean-simulation but I just want
to piss in sand
singing memories of Los Angeles.
Sorry, the masses I abandoned.
What song of salt on tongue.
What rustic swampland.
Nothing
about the tide I claim
to understand. Water’s not even
clear. Only unexplainable shifts
of the heart coming
and coming at me relentlessly
like I never settled when it mattered.
Now I prefer deepwoods drugs.
Life’s a slow death
and I just need to get to the end.
(go)
What else do you want / what else
do you want / what else do you want? To do?
go
go
go
go
go
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)