Jake Adam York Poems

Forgive me if I forget
with the birdsong and the day's
last glow folding into the hands
...

Night's air tightens slowly, afternoon's
heat thinning with honeysuckle -
millions of trumpets of sun
...

To Yusef Komunyakaa
When I rise from the bank
...

Six weeks since that whisper rose
into the window of a stage
behind the Half Note's bar,
...

Did your right hand itch when I transcribed your O
don't you hear me cryin? phrase I'd pay a hundred dollars
to raise my voice into, cause you got money for sure,
...

To Sun Ra, from Earth
You are not here,
you are not here
...

Glyph for dry
for hope and
false hope.
...

When you ask, I'll want to say maybe—
maybe I have been here before,
family tour, class trip hemmed
in the back of the bus, or maybe
...

Does the river, after
it's come apart,
still hold the drowned
hand's tremble, still
...

The moss never falls.
However gray,
it hangs like shirts
left to weather and rag
...