riddle for the invisible fiddler crab



you see me crashing against



do you wonder what is sand and where



listening to the waves, i wonder myself


in my own eyes i have forgotten

hypnotized with horizons

gray-blue in the sun

black-blue sometimes with stars

blurred depths


are you pelican or crab?

jellyfish or manta ray?

turtle or human?

woman and man?

a distant shore?


I can swim, yet burn, and feel buried.

I cannot fly.


this riddle is my name for now.




May 27, ©1991


Amy Jackson





Reflections on "Johanna D'Arc de Mongolia," Driving from the Movie



floating along the four-lane late

night and homeward, music and monotony in my skull


mongolian nomads raced long horses as grasses grew back before them

brilliant-hued silks, bursting through the wet outer subway walls


shattering with laughter and wind and sun, cheers and whistling

amazing me into sudden movement while driving


everything is slow as Earth to sand blows quickly into deserts


sand rushing into my eyes from their hooves and speeding

scrubbing me of sight to fill my head like an urn


I shift


the nomads cross over me now on their good horses

the princess leads the way and they are shimmering silken bodies


I am their desert, near the train, where the Spirit Tree stands




May 17, ©1991

Amy Jackson