After Losing Kingsford
I don’t trust a house
not coated in fur
it’s in the air it’s in the air
if not love
then I don’t know how to tell you.
It’s Sunday. I spray
every surface clean.
And still the home (I trust
the home) has traces of you
everywhere.
Spring Cleaning, Day Thirty (Quarantine)
we need to open unused sponges
the olds behind the sink their demons
should have crawled away by now
they reincarnate as tub scrubbers
now I look to the ceiling bemoan
the blocked sky
unbox the handheld vac
look how much dust we have collected
just on that first step toward our bedroom
James Croal Jackson
James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. His latest chapbooks are Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022) and Our Past Leaves (Kelsay Books, 2021). Recent poems are in Stirring, Vilas Avenue, and *82 Review. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. (jamescroaljackson.com)
Photo by Kunj Parekh.