August Garden

August Garden

Overgrown,
ravaged with insects, humming
incessant sun,

the lot of it
buckles, sucks, sags and slumps
toward autumn —

all bursting,
come to fruition, seeking divisions
between sex and

sex and death —

breathing
last breaths, heaving its seed
toward next season.


Stephen Jackson [he/him] lives and writes in the Pacific Northwest. His poems have appeared or are forthcoming in The American Journal of PoetryDreams Walking50 HaikusGhost City ReviewImpossible ArchetypeThe Inflectionist ReviewIō Literary JournalNeuro LogicOctober Hill MagazineQuinceStone of Madness Press, and S/WORD, as well as on the International Human Rights Art Festival Publishes platform and in the PoetRhy Garden.

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