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#46 JACK

January 1st, 2019

 
 

Jack - Micheal Bone

You push down
I rise up
Like an old jack
Under it's last car

The Old Initiation - Eric Chisler

Fruit of a world tree unknown
Ascent yields nothing alone
For the young boy hero
Must come to earth again

To the disappointed mother
Bearing nothing edible for her
Instead a heavenly goose
Wild feathers concealing wealth

Riches of another sort
For young boys to grasp
Beans that grow danger
And hold aloft gilded eggs

Value is fashioned
Not by vain ascendence
But by coming back down
Darkly gestating the shine

The boy hero must die
Must disappoint the mother
And grow hungry and still
If he will birth what lies inside

Jacked Up - Ijack

Hey Mr. Jack
Yeah you with the hacky sack acting whack
Get back
On the wrong track smackin’ Tic-Tacs©™ and Carnauba wax
Dark Black
Attack fact buying Nickelodeon©™ Gak©™
Heavy flak
In Iraq©™ without a gat just to frak
6 Pack
Frayed mat where folks acrobat
Sucky tact
Busted by a brat who blew the vac
Laundromat
Cleaned hoes and hat by a sycophant
Nose yak
Snows flat that ya gotta pay for with a $©™ sack
Water brack
West and east mid ocean hydrothermal crack
Answered FAQ
From a hack who’s got the nicnacs
Big Mac©™
Nutritional facts that lawyers made a redact
Flaw racks
No take backs getting quacked at by a lilac
Nickleback©™
Exit the existential example of being exact

Oh Jack! - Mim. RoeDer

Oh Jack
You saucy lad
You wild knave
Your voice a symphony
Your eyes, they laugh and sparkle
Your mouth - the arc of Eros’ bow
Your suggestive lashes

Dip in my direction
When you choose to look at me

Flooding my world
With your given energy
The Things we would do

Whether piercing call,
Gladdening song,
Or chirping whisper in my ear
You call up hoped for outcomes
Refreshing old dreams
And promises of youth

Dripped from honeyed
Soft rose petal
Peach-fleshed lips
Subtle savory seasoning
To bend my will for order
An encouragement for change
The pressing of your thigh
Against mine, and Oh!
The potency of concepts

Oh Jack
You saucy lad
You wild knave

Oh Jack
You saucy lad
You wild knave

"Jill" - Natalie Francesca Windt

I was a knucklebone guerilla
born the life of the damned,
born to learn sleight of hand
and my card that
of low-ranking woman.

I am nimble, watch
me turn, trick! To a
Jill of All Trades.
Calling all spades: “hey, spades!”
On your street corners, promenades
and alleyways. Come out,
come out and stand wherever you are.

What you know of us, Jack is
we’ll bump the crown off your head
watch you tumble, too classy
to laugh as you fall all the way down

our alleyways, promenades, and street corners
— now that we’ve taken them back.

 
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