By James Croal Jackson

I know

       I know

   if I can understand you    I am an asshole

        but I want you to do well

             I want you to write in the sun
barefoot on brick with birds humming from their bones

               what is a comma
                  but a fucking shadow scythe

 who cares
    if the number eight 
            is spelled 8

       or synonymous with infinity?

                you know more than I do
this I know of all of you

Category: Featured, Poetry