Sand

I was sand, a
billion places
at once. But I
was there with
you, too, my
mind fragments
of crystal. How
to reconcile not
giving us my
all? I am now
in one field
and you are
in another.
I want to dig
myself a vast
pit and fill it
so you know
I’ve changed.
But I know
if the cups
of your hands
scoop me up
again, parts
of me will
slip through
the slits
between your
fingers.

I Try to Keep Your Ice Cream Cake Cold

It is eighty-two degrees in Pittsburgh and my trunk
is crammed so your DQ cake sits in the passenger seat,

moves the same speed I do in my car in this orbit
in this galaxy. There is so much matter to keep cool

in the universe, but there’s sunshine through my wind-
shield and you – I know – thaw as a passenger beside

me. I’m doing what I can: aiming all the frigid vents
that way, holding a folder to shade you. I drive fifty-

five in a thirty-five to avoid my mind entertaining a
milky flood mixed with dust, dog hair, cookie crumbs,

and lust pooling where you are, your name in icing
illegible – it’s fine, for now. Don’t freak out. I am

floating over a bridge, the sun forever taunting,
and soon I know you’ll go, in one way or another,

into the mouth of a thankful person – whether me,
trying to save you from this heat, or you, radiant

as the sun, seeing celestial bodies who – for at
least this orbit – you know revolve around you.

Horoscope – July 20, 2017

You’re going to have it all
but not today, Taurus.

The swarming suits
will suffocate you;
love won’t feel like it exists.

This trend will grind you
down to bones but you
will bounce out of bed

tomorrow to grind
at work. Open your mouth
a little more than usual

to let more air
into your life.

Prom at the Cleveland Zoo

We danced; gorillas
covered their ears
behind the glass.

James Croal Jackson 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. jimjakk.com