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Tag Archives: A. K. Jackson
Onions in the humid August ground, you’ve grown so – sticky-fingered layers upon layers of film. Cellulose. Skin. I’m a whole garden of these bulbs: deep purple gunfire blossoms. Root vegetables planted in place of memories. Tread carefully so not … Continue reading
I see you – a gravestone of a girl and suddenly my stomach is drowning. Sick waves of your blonde hair and the way you snuck into bed with me, breasts pointing outward like two angry girls who would not … Continue reading
Away from you I roll onto my stomach and feel something claw at me – a translucent crawfish growing in my womb, a nervous idea, my heart expanding with each pulsation until it fills my chest and I sigh, blood … Continue reading
A path. The cold air is kissing me, leaving red marks on my face. The night paints my figure—lone and slight— with flat strokes of a calligraphy brush. Black, on a navy blue background. Everything is damp, the grass full … Continue reading
Sweet, junky sleep with crust in my eyes and dry lips! I hugged a pillow and it dropped me into a dead stillness where I never had a body. A pile of old blankets, nothing to my name but works. … Continue reading
Sometimes I think she looks at me and thinks “This is what will happen to me if I do clean up and get well” and it makes her want to destroy herself while she still can. *** Be the tragic … Continue reading