written by Jamal Jones
drifting near a misshapen leaf. a right glove which had been worn and lost
to the night’s vigor. a date’s bent loosie, wet with embalming fluid. some stray hairs.
orange rinds torn from meat. orange meat tendons littered about sparingly and glistening
in the eye of the moon. a large granite stump straddled by found teddy bears and tracks
pacing the stump, left from a queen’s vigil. a stiffened prayer rug: amber, green and gold. crumbed with graham crackers.
After realizing that Jamal and I both went to San Francisco State University, we made some small talk about what the campus and our programs looked like during our times there, but quickly got to business:
ALEESHA LANGE: I know you published a couple people in [Imagoes] who also went to state right?
JAMAL JONES: Yeah. Yes, yes, yes. Dena and Stewart, who went [to State] a while back. And then maybe some other people who I can’t think of right now.
AL: How did you reign them into getting their work into to this anthology?
JJ: Stewart Shaw I knew from just poetry stuff elsewhere. He more or less was like my poetry mentor, even though he doesn’t like that title. He doesn’t want any titles of authority, I guess. And Dena Rod, we’ve known each other since State, but I remember three or four years ago they messaged me online asking me to look at some of their work, which I thought was incredibly flattering. They’ve kind of taken off from there. I remember reading some of their work and giving feedback and a few years later they were working for Argot Magazine and we developed in addition to our friendship kind of this working relationship. And so when I asked them, “Hey, you got some work?” They said, “Of course.” without question.