Jasmine Flowers
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  • About
  • Book
  • Publications
  • Poetry
  • Copywriting
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POETRY

From the Faucet

6/14/2022

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Oh yeah, I know about that dried-up creek down the road. The water ran right on off to our
house. I keep it clean in the tub -- put a bit of bleach in your bath if you want. All that salt
keeps it real soft. I ladle it up in a bowl outside for the cat. She came back here the other day
with a brand new tail from her cougar friend. Now she actin’ all big and purrin’ at night.
Must be calling out for some Tom. Maybe he’ll come, and they can stay under the porch.
Need to run these mice into the woods. We can’t sleep with all those eyes under us! Only the
Devil would be watching like that.

...
Published in
Ethel Zine
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The Astronauts Are Out of Milk

6/14/2022

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​I can’t stand you, so I have to be honest. It’s time to replace that star you’ve been wishing on.
It’s done you no good. It’ll do you no good. You’re praying to something that might already
be gone -- a glimpse of hot gas that once was. You should wish on a rock, even if it might
crumble. Haven’t you been held? Haven’t you been thrown into the water? You’re not too
good to trip someone up. Forget the bodies of stars with no mouths to drink. Build a
foundation in the pit of your gut. I might just be there waiting for you. We could climb your
throat to gaze at all the teeth — those yellow-white bricks lined with spit. It’s a perfectly
good view for you. But then again, that’s just how I feel. I’m no scientist or whatever.

...
Published in
Ethel Zine
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The Fields of June

6/13/2022

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The sun burning bright:
A Mississippi Wednesday
Covered black and white
In smoke - gun gray.

In the fields of June,
they shot Medgar Evers
by the home he made.

In the fields of agitators
In the fields of slave labor
In the fields of Klan coppers
In the fields of sharecroppers
In the fields of picked cotton
In the fields of rights forgotten

A cry for justice rings unafraid.

The sun burning bright:
An American weekday
Covers left and right
In smoke - gun gray.
​
...

Created for Birmingham Civil Rights Institute
​Watch the video!
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When It's My Time

2/1/2022

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All omens are personal. Some are for old men with teeth in their pockets. Others are for mothers with ten arms and four legs. Mine is a silver dollar that I didn’t give to the man under the bridge. I planted it in autumn, but I won’t make it to spring. The girls say I’m too busy to pay attention. But who can watch the ground when the rain might come? If I drop dead outside, they’ll keep the homegoing short. You’ll know me by the hours of the birds. Count ‘em slow like you love ‘em, like you meant to do it, like you’ll miss the sound of the last wings. Baptize the fried fish and white bread in hot sauce.

...
Published in
Height Chart (Middle House Review)
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Lockjaw

12/15/2021

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Some unboxed words
should be left alone.

Those boxes hold
jewels for my hair,
spiders for my light,
peaches for my sink.

Don't use 'em all up.

I pick a few to go 
with my baby teeth.

...
Published in 
Roadrunner Review
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Primordial Hymn

12/15/2021

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- after "Pilot Verse" by Matt W. Miller

Now to write a book of birth,
eighty pages edged in gold.

Now to crack back the ribs
to peer inside fresh lungs.

Now to scrape the cavities
full of meat and metal ends.

Now to spit into open hands
thronging the empty flames.

Now to let loose the wails
waiting deep in my throat.

...
Published in 
Roadrunner Review
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She Walks Among Us

3/31/2021

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Dark, kind woman. Big, bright woman.
Hard, proud woman. Bold, light woman.

Back straight. Head high. Wide smile aglow.

She's shining in dim places
                                   and
bursting into small rooms.

       Ain't no fist that can hold her.

Show us      who you've always been.
Show us      the way to the future.

The universe moves forward,
and she's calling back to you:

                                   Woman.
...
Created for Shipt
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When the End Breaks

2/1/2021

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Picture
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Published in Wingspan
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Hear It

2/1/2021

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Picture
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Published in Wingspan
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ChapStick

2/1/2021

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Picture
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Published in Wingspan
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