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"Rochester", "The Mass Marketing Email Says We Will Miss You After I Smash That Unsubscribe Link" & "Home" by James Croal Jackson


Rochester



 We walked across the bridge to Genesee

   but didn’t walk into the brewery.

    Then we walked further, a little later,

a mile down the endless dock above

  the lake. We ate the same breakfast

two days in a row. I needed a break

      from work and another dull birth

  day. It was selfish, I know. That four

    hour drive into a simpler time

              across the hungry sea.



The Mass Marketing Email Says We Will Miss You After I Smash That Unsubscribe Link



Bye-bye blue beaches underneath a copywriter’s fingertips!

I am feeling filthy enough typing my own contributions


to the downfall of everything. The keyboard sounds

juicy if you just listen. Zesty. Squishing lemons.


Releasing shift’s a loud clicker. A double jump

for a healthier life, somersaulting upwards,


get jacked! I wish there were a supplement

to supplant my depression. They will


keep trying. I am alive enough 

to receive burnt-out transmissions.



Home



I whistle in the neighborhood shade

where pennies shimmer on the sidewalk,

stars. I could call this home forever– 

or as long as anything lasts. Nothing 

thrills me more than you, I know, 

wherever we go. To speak of my dream

of leaving for a state of bluegrass

and bourbon– a place to start anew

and air is sweet with a little kick–

I want to come home 

to another home where trumpets blare 

and the cabinets are full of angel hair, 

where I can open the window at night.




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 The Garlic Press, Glint, and Triggerfish. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. (jamescroaljackson.com)


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