Flashed Junk Mind

James Coal Jackson

First time I heard this song was Denver,
someone blasting the song out of convertible
speakers, top down, we both at red light.

I googled danced like this before / never
talk about it and that became the anthem
of my living in my Ford days, at least

when wandering out of Colorado. I’d play
the tune on the way to Dunkin’ Donuts
(in the same lot as Planet Fitness, the one

I’d sleep in for five nights), and now
I’m in a Dunkin’ in Bloomfield, Pittsburgh,
my third city in five years, and the chain’s

changed names but its music’s the same,
Flashed Junk Mind a black fly circling
my head, taunting my garbage days, I’d

eat the trash, I had to. Today I buy two
donuts, maple-glazed and chocolate,
and type within sanitized walls.

‡‡

JAMES COAL JACKSON is a Filipino-American poet working in film production. His latest chapbook is A God You Believed In (Pinhole Poetry, 2023). Recent poems are in The River, Mangrove Review, and Packingtown Review. He edits The Mantle Poetry from Nashville, Tennessee. www. jamescroaljackson.com.