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Mark Jackley is a business writer in Washington, DC, whose poems have
appeared in journals throughout the US, as well as in India, Australia,
England, and Canada. His chapbook "Brevities" was recently published by
Ginninderra Press."
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Laughing with a Friend About Our Outlaw Past
But the tale of Dave Revard
and his not-quite moustache,
his feathered hair
and corduroy jacket,
the cops in Mississippi
who shot him dead,
the marijuana
exploits, the tequila
and the skid marks is,
judging from the hushing
of our tone, almost
a trigger all its own
for two men with divorces,
child support and parents
who will soon stop breathing.
We won't see it coming.
Quietly, we slide
the gun back into the drawer.
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What My Father Smoked
Borkum Riff, tamped into his pipe,
his finger spade-like,
tobacco moist as earth
to which the men he lost
in war returned,
the ones I doubt he ever buried
in his armchair in the dark.
A sudden flame -- I see him glow,
wreathed in smoke, palming ashes.
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Afterwards, I Rub Your Back
And Begin To Drift
My fingers are old men
hobbling in a garden,
who blink and step with care
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2004-2007 the Dublin Quarterly--to see familiar things with unfamiliar eyes!
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