Jacob Griffin Hall was raised outside of Atlanta, Ga and is currently a PhD candidate in English at the University of Missouri. In the past, he has worked as assistant poetry editor for the Mid-American Review and he now works as poetry editor for The Missouri Review. His work has appeared in New South, DIAGRAM, New Ohio Review Online, The Carolina Quarterly, and other journals.



Jacob Griffin Hall

Trance



It was Monday night. I sat in the rain on the sidewalk stacking pebbles, toeing the border of the neighbor’s yard, watching monsters skulk behind a row of parked cars across the street. It was meatloaf night and I hated it. I parted my polite lips and watched moths gather around the streetlight by the mailbox. I wanted more pebbles. I wanted my playthings. I wanted to gather daylilies in a basket. What if all things took the shape more or less of their maker? I scooped my pebbles from the stack and hurled them into the trees.




Glass: A Journal of Poetry is published quarterly by Glass Poetry Press.
All contents © the author.