-


it was working towards me
in tiny increments with this
unusually adamant
determination

loop-scooting itself across a
hot gravel desert populated
by abrasively inert killers

scraping off bits of itself
in detail along the way

i gave it a lift—

it rolled into a tight ball,
relaxed and then died
in my hand

its last act, a lamenting as if
i had denied it some chosen
final resting place

leaving me holding
this barometer

for measuring the spaces
between those less than
lofty of goals in the better
part of my years...



s jones
2021


.

-


is it better to feel a sting
than to become numb
from the wakes of

those millions of voices
suggesting to you about
how to live out

your final few breaths ?

i might hold on
to mine
                  
                  forever...




s jones
2021


.

-


as a kid
i felt along
the walls of a
perceived dark
confinement for
escape

imagining that creatures
were taking swipes at me
with their claws and tentacles

knowing —full well— that
discovery of a light switch
would end this game of
nightmares


YEARS—


my illusion of exploration
has been reduced to ashes
from decades of rapid
illumination

just as well, i cannot afford
to trip my way through
the darkness anymore

still

some nights i will turn the
lights off and imagine myself
searching cautiously along
pitch black wooden panels

thinking next time i might
miss the switch &
instead

discover artifacts from
a lost childhood...



s jones
2021


.

-

nothing might happen if i put
a blank sheet of paper in front
of me and hold a pencil over it
long enough to count the number
of beats it takes for my heart to
forget why i wanted to give up
on writing—

and then i notice a teardrop
right in the center of it...


                               
                        ,





.

s jones
2021

-

the owl hoots from across the field—

pulls the sun out from
the ground by its talons
and tosses it into my
kitchen window

winks at me

and then takes off into
the morning with its
fully cooked meal...


s jones
July 2021



.

-

when i was very young i was
prohibited from climbing the
kitchen cabinets in order to
get into the sugar container

yet my ulterior motive
next to it was the flour

it started with the creation
of pictures of my fingers in
reverse

and then with a playing card
i molded shapes that would
crack apart in intricate detail
as i nudged at it slightly

with a tablespoon i constructed
mountains and grand canyons

i even made my own
five year old face

thinking how God might
have been inspired with
simple cosmic dust

—

reviewing the cracks and
wrinkles of my pale stoney
cheeks in the mirror

i have decided that it may
be best not to let children
play with flour...

s jones
June 2021


.