In the Night Time Car

Dark and spacious carriage –
architecture splits before me,

chunks of wood floating in green pond.
Summertime was a memory

I ate like strawberries
behind the wheel. Sticky khaki shorts

and burnt-out suns
encapsulate the void

closing in: a blood pressure monitor
on my pale and hairless arm.

James Croal Jackson (he/him) has a chapbook, The Frayed Edge of Memory (Writing Knights Press, 2017), and poems in Pacifica, Reservoir, and Rattle. He edits The Mantle Poetry. Currently, he works in the film industry in Pittsburgh, PA. His website: https://jimjakk.com.

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