What do you remember?
Breaking the line
in a queue/ scoring
scalped tickets below cost/ a ball signed by
American baseball players
crowds ringing the circcus/ handstands in the infield.

How were you breathing?
Maximums and measures/ a hundredth of a second
touch and score/ breathing fast/ as sex
flight of a javelin.

What can be gathered up inside?
What the eye can't see/ magnificent screens
reply and replay/ the crowd a big boxer
punch drunk.

Did your favourites win or lose?
A hundredth of their effort/ the money on their shoes
When she put her hands on your shoulders?
You lowered the camera
she left the stadium with the team.

It is all a kind of water/ body as pump
the skin is a screen/ everyone sees that part
even the heart is readable/ in part.
She left the stadium with a medal
you left/ the impression
her hands/ the seconds/ on your shoulder.

Poems from 'Ash is Here, So are Stars'

Are You Worried About Yourself?
Embedded Dreams

Reviews of 'Ash is Here, So are Stars'

A. Frances Johnson in Cordite Poetry Review
Lucy Alexander in Verity La

Other poems by Jill Jones

This is Friday high up
The eclipse
Mouth Song
Palm and rope


A conversation with Jill Jones