by JL Jacobs | Sep 2, 2019 | Poetry
The Lovers 1. You’re twenty-two, kneeling in front of a bookshelf. Albums lean drunkenly over each other, mingle, flirt. And the novels, heavy from too much ink, give way to them. I barely recognize you, blackhaired and smirking. That T-shirt from a street vendor says...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 30, 2019 | Poetry
Ingesting eclipses 1. We consume darkness in loss, ingesting eclipses. When earth and moon fail to syncopate, our axis askew, Truth becomes dross. Even gilding fails to validate. 2. Heat-steeped cement, iridescent, turns vapor to flame. A leaf on the ground...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 28, 2019 | Poetry
Reclaimed The barn thrived for three generations, barn doors flung wide hosting children on hay hoists, October called dances with stolen embraces under a bat’s roost, an owl’s screech, the breeze joyous in the wheat, its golden hue reflecting on the barn’s whitewash....
by JL Jacobs | Aug 26, 2019 | Poetry
Her dress once pink A harrier hawk on a snow-mounded fence a murder of crows on the gray wind shocks of yellow winter wheat on the periphery the field bleeding into the horizon I can’t go on she said surrounded by absence...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 23, 2019 | Short Fiction
Stardust “It’s time.” “Now?” “Yes. You better come now… today… as soon as you can.” It’s Clara. My sister’s voice is unusually soft, unstable. On the plane, the sun has already set and it’s a dark clear night. From my window seat I gaze down at the...
