Tag Archives: Mark Jackley

Mark Jackley


Who knows why I dreamt
that I could start my Ford
by crawling underneath it
and lighting votive candles—
it was car repair for poets,
staring at the cold
baffling machinery
in the little darkness,
admiring the perfect
curve of the crescent wrench,
which recalled the dance of starlings
spelling something in
the alphabet of dusk—
not an answer,
not a question,
hardly an equation,
though possibly a page
from a manual we have lost.

Mark Jackley lives in Purcellville, Virginia. His poems have appeared in Fifth Wednesday, Natural Bridge, Talking River, and other journals.



Mark Jackley

My Father Is Drinking Gin and Reading a Detective Novel

Eyes closed,
pressed against
his chest,
he is breathing
slowly in
the dark
as mysteries
whisper through
his Banlon
shirt into
his unsolved

Mark Jackley‘s poems have appeared in Sugar House Review, Fifth Wednesday, The Cape Rock, Talking River, and other journals.


Mark Jackley

To a Dog from Guatemala Asleep in a Brooklyn Bar

Holy Virgin, thank you
for appearing as a mutt
to flick cigar-brown eyes,
slowly wag your tail,
affirm without a word
there are no borders or
strangers here tonight,
just a few strays.

Lucinda Williams

Door to heart
kicked open,
Christ it’s good out here.

Mark Jackley‘s new book of poems is Appalachian Night, available for free at chineseplums@gmail.com.