Three Poems
Billy Jackson
cause that is all we knew
we drank liquor, smoked crack,
escorted prostitutes around in our car,
hoping for a bisquit, or a small dead bird,
a song sweetly sung; that no one ever heard.
I left Texas to have him. Not for him, but for me: so that I would survive.
I sat down. Cassandra ordered a glass of wine. “I hope this wasn’t sudden,” she said.
i wonder how hard it is for her to
reconcile being a Christian and a witch
judge and judged. how easy
Thus commences the portion of the evening in which you retrieve the Svedka again to sober up
cause that is all we knew
we drank liquor, smoked crack,
escorted prostitutes around in our car,
hoping for a bisquit, or a small dead bird,
a song sweetly sung; that no one ever heard.
I listen to Queen. “Another One Bites the Dust.” The soundtrack of my life.
Countless times she was quoted for her famous remark that “monogamy is a prison that free people voluntarily check themselves in for the duration of their lives.” And “can anything be more depressing and boring in life than fucking the same person over and over again, for decades?”
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
"[Her Lesser Work] is a collection of mordant and formally inventive stories circling themes of, let’s say, desire and escape within repressive structures."
-Walker Caplan, Literary Hub