Is it the speed or the illusion of going somewhere that drives to the spare part of home swathed in darkness I point my guitar at you and call you over I am split screen with water droplets just a fragment of the room I visited earlier the stairs behind you beside the brotherly vines that live in the modern garden
James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. His latest chapbooks are A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023) and Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022). Recent poems are in Ghost City Review, Little Patuxent Review, and Pirene’s Fountain. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. jamescroaljackson.com