by JL Jacobs | Nov 13, 2019 | Poetry
How Would The King Tell It? after Selah Saterstrom What does a fire sentence look like? .. Like an oracle, like an atonement to listening. In art is there a traditional way that a mother looks at her baby? .. In art a mother is never the king. Can we fall in love with...
by JL Jacobs | Nov 11, 2019 | Poetry
A portrait of a vase on a table The moon in the wall, in the park, dusty is crooked. Then a picture of a nail in the wall, a chair covered leg, crooked ducks. A hat is too weeds, too weeds all along the growing wall. A day in the corner of the attic so alley, we...
by JL Jacobs | Aug 7, 2019 | Short Fiction
Art: Cyril Larvor COCA COLA For fifty cents she buys a cold can at the deli near her house. She cracks its mouth and walks to the pier. Looking at the water where many boats are gathered she lets the cold can precipitate. Men adjust their sails and empty their fishing...
by JL Jacobs | Jun 1, 2019 | Poetry
Art: Cyril Larvor WHAT WAS In the kitchen I stand Tracksuit-clad and blinking As the click of the front door shuts The sounds of the day away. I snuff the gas And the subterranean gurgling fades to naught As, like a latter-day suburban witch Leaning over her...
by JL Jacobs | Apr 8, 2019 | Short Fiction
Art: Cyril Larvor THE SPARROW The party functionary went down the stairs of the metro at Victory Station. He came to the fare gate, where a female clerk in uniform was standing. She looked at his flag badge, accepted his ticket, and placed it in a slot. He made his...
