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...
by JL Jacobs | Feb 26, 2020 | Poetry
Strawberry I wish I was dead so I could go to Heaven because at Sunday School they say that Jesus died for my sins, and I sin, but when I die I’ll live forever and I can’t do that here, on Earth I mean, so my only choice for life is death so if I can live...
by JL Jacobs | Feb 24, 2020 | Poetry
Rooster and Hog Crossing The squall blew sideways screaming in from Hollow Point, Hawaii. The undulating waves slammed along the coffee cliffs of igneous rock jig-sawing along the sandy beach. The jet-engine surf churned and the west wind ironed the water into...
by JL Jacobs | Feb 19, 2020 | Poetry
DRY DOCK Luciano sits at the bar—he always sits at the bar—watching over his crew like a ship’s captain. The bartender, Ian, has already placed a glass of Chianti at his right hand. Tonight, from his wheelhouse, Luciano sips his red wine as he watches the cooks in the...
