and enjoy!

2 Poems by Jackson Grind

The razor sharp,

paper thin,

dangling string

of a line.

The silhouetted,

matchbook laden,

plastic headed,

little, limping

line

between love,

hate,

birds and bees,

knees and eyelashes.

The line in front

of each foot

and behind each

great man

waiting be crossed

and accredited

for every step,

heartbreak,

slept off tear,

and empty bottle

of beer in

this

house.

___________

We sat quietly

evading each other’s eyes

studying shoelaces

and dust mites

wondering when we took

the first step

into the sea

I recalled the crunchy

brown leaves

and the muddy tennis shoes

the beach and the

bottom of a well

I was wrong of course

and you so eloquently

reminded me

of the birds and the bees

with stingers

and talons

venom

and razor beaks

you told me there was no use

they had already spotted me

and running now

would only

make them sting

and claw

a little bit

harder