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To Rich (From Irie)

I Can Feel it Ending

James Croal Jackson

James Croal Jackson

Bananas everywhere make me hungry. The doormat, the neon sign, the sticker In your dream I fuck your sister; in the morning you say I don’t love you. Because we showed a broken mirror to the world and hate the jagged edges of the trees. The barren branches. Sun-sharp bottle shards glistening atop one bridge in a city of a hundred bridges.

on your Apple– I can’t help it. My cuteness doesn’t preclude that I am part wolf. A ruthless hunter. When I run across the rug to your room I want you to throw fruit on the floor just to bite off the peels. I’ve had my eyes on inedible Ethel the Christmas Chicken when I learned she’s still a chicken. For once I want a sandwich. Put me in your cart with a potato gun at Sam’s and we’ll hold that whole place up. As you ransack the banana stand, I’ll loot the deli and meet you in the middle. 72