No Fool, No Fodder

Did he prefer the knee to the ankle,
uncoupled and black tarred, the space between them
a dark roux of muddy water and a mouthful of moon?
  
No need to worry about the fattened pig
or the quick tap dance behind the shed.
Of all the things he used to claim,
  
a pasture of black-eyed Susans was never
one of them. He didn’t need a speedometer
or two more cocktails, his road was already
  
greased and graveled. He sped right down
hearing only a few suggest, Keep your eyes on the road.
And the finishing line? That dark place
  
of crackle and fizz? It could be his best of days.
No fool, no fodder.  Please, no skinny-dipping
in the black, fresh-water springs.
Slag and Fortune
Didi Jackson
Jackson_cover

Slag and Fortune

Didi Jackson

Floating Wolf Quarterly Cover_wolf
 
 
Slag and Fortune cover

Slag and Fortune

Didi Jackson


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