NEW POETRY

we wore our best hunter-green waited patiently

as men took a different kind of field we craved

sustenance a resurrection a flight a waiting

by window in the purple light under wrong

tin roof what we tossed into sky we threw

away our wing-missiles pigskins of self

talons landing burrowing deep out of view

what craft drunk disturbance in the flapping

february frigidity that beat against our jackets

yours the bird slick knit on surface mine

a thready childhood blanket to keep no one

and nothing not the least of heat my heart 

drinks beside you as it waits for the game

to be good but it never does and always was.

James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023). Recent poems are in ITERANT, Stirring, and The Indianapolis Review. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. (jamescroaljackson.com)