by JL Jacobs | Oct 31, 2019 | Art, Poetry
RHODODENDRON, WINTER A troupe of ghosts stand in abeyance─ radiant energy we feel but cannot see. A naive bud, abiding spring. Guilded, like the age we live in─ a thin gold leaf of wealth for a few. Greed, and fear of losing. Leaves curl backwards into themselves,...
by JL Jacobs | Oct 28, 2019 | Poetry
Mohican River Music...
by JL Jacobs | Oct 23, 2019 | Poetry
grandfather for a betta fish your gaze swims out to nothing. I watch from the other side as your body shimmers cerulean behind the plastic pane of the tank, caudal and ventral waving behind you. Cortázar once took our cousin’s place in the water but I cannot see from...
by JL Jacobs | Oct 21, 2019 | Poetry
A River We Call Snake “A river we call Snake….” “Because it winds?” “Because it coils and strikes ─ Because it is a viper Even in summer when its small islands are sequins its fangs ─ only folded Behind them...
by JL Jacobs | Oct 16, 2019 | Poetry
CORKS OR DRUMS The wet seconds of the Anaphorical Clock Grind the day into mud. And each is the same. The same breakfast followed by the same phone calls, the same news and the same plastic ravenous news people. The same lunch followed uncomfortably by the same...
