by JL Jacobs | Apr 29, 2020 | Short Fiction
THE CROSSING By Maureen Mancini Amaturo The doctor said, “Soon now.” He said, “Maybe there are family members you’d like to call. Anyone close by who she would like to be here, who might want to be here?” At that moment, I stood in a vacuum, in isolation, as if...
by JL Jacobs | Apr 23, 2020 | Art, Poetry
Cycles Cycle of dirty laundry spinning ad infinitum in the rinse cycle Always another upkeep to keep up, everything decaying always Entreaty for succor for suckers borne each minute by entreaty Galvanized gallantly galloping to our hotspot polished pole galvanized...
by JL Jacobs | Apr 15, 2020 | Poetry
A PARTICULAR In twenty minutes it will be 9:15, a particular that will come against us all: the student making sense of a Brahms sonata, another boiling macaroni in a chipped aluminum pot, or you, barefoot and considering your barriers—who made them?— between Bursa...
by JL Jacobs | Apr 8, 2020 | Poetry
Bad Weather and All I could have lived in Sisters or moved to the isle of Lesbos — nectar and ambrosia — but I didn’t choose where I stayed near the stork nest, Bad weather and all. Schizophrenia will not stop me nor walking on ice or pennies I...
by JL Jacobs | Apr 1, 2020 | Poetry
Mother, I said Mother, I said, I’m a one note character my fibers are inchoate I have but a single, primitive dimension, and it’s in arrest nothing is cultivated but the loss of the familiar the essence of things that have since died under the march of...
