James Croal Jackson

August 10, 2012   Friday night patio party. Drinks with the server crew.

Travels   Tell me your wildest vacation fantasy. There, we will visit our home.

Umbrella   In the lips of thunder, we never feel full as rain slips from our mouths– the brick streets are slicked with histories we will not yet slip. Sediment lodged in the curb will displace in time. Our tongues slicken in the dry we create so we thirst for the wet we tried simply […]