but I am too busy. My dog is too loyal.
A war could break out any minute;
it might be a Civil War.
I don’t know how to make charms
and I’ve never owned an amulet.
These horns and hooves never let me
rest comfortably. It is better
when looking at sculpture and fine art
to keep moving. The moon is a pod
of milkweed, the seeds are the stars.
An emerald beetle is destroying ash trees.
Blood pools in surprising areas away
from the mortal wounds. In death,
his eyes were closed and glued.
He could not see me even when he
was alive. My father wanted to be a preacher.
So did his father. Now, when I make the bed
I have to tap his pillow four times
just like this:
……………………. I find clementines too bitter.
My son remembers the last words he said
to him. My scars feel like fish moving
under my flesh. The winds are too strong
in my new home. We lose power often.
I have fallen in love
………………………………. with the snow.
Also by Didi Jackson (see all)
- Considering Elaine de Kooning’s Self-Portrait #3 - June 3, 2020
- Everyone Says I Should Write a Love Poem - February 9, 2020
- The Fox - September 24, 2019