top of page

"When I Grow Up, I Want to Be an Astronaut" by James Croal Jackson




the balloons inside

float in swarms

of blackbirds straight

toward a helium moon.

oh to sink my living

teeth into that tethered

object and gnaw it

from orbit. to be so

antigravity I antiquate

everything new at its

source of radiant

blooming. orange-

petaled I read in verse

as a kid, grew restless

in sleep. I fear I may

become the astronaut

that plucks the nearest

star. another apple

from the garden.


James Croal Jackson is a Filipino-American poet who works in film production. His latest chapbooks are A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023) and Count Seeds With Me (Ethel Zine & Micro-Press, 2022). Recent poems are in Hello America, Little Patuxent Review, and Ballast Poetry Journal. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. (jamescroaljackson.com)

Recent Posts

See All

Two poems by Mckendy Fils-Aimé

sipèstisyon If people say your child is beautiful, your child will become ugly. ok, i confess. once, i said fuck you to danny perkins on the last day of kindergarten after a miserable year of being pu

"Dead Things" by Beth Boylan

I feel compelled to pick up the baby bird that has died just outside my doorstep this morning. Place her in my hand and rub her toothpick ribs with my thumb. Gently kiss the milky-blue bulbs of her ey

Two poems by Daniel Edward Moore

Hey, Future is that you / in the moment / a Buddhist might love / enough to hyperventilate / or the day’s dizzy spin /of 24 hours / kicking joy / to the curbs / of chaos / blessed by Hallmark’s / squa

留言


bottom of page