James Lee Jobe has been published in Manzanita, Tule Review, Pearl, and many other periodicals. His recent online publications include Convergence, Knot Magazine, Poetry 24, Medusa’s Kitchen, bloodsugarpoetry, and The Original Van Gogh Anthology. Jobe has authored five chapbooks, and has lived in Davis, California for many years. Later this year he will become the fourth Poet Laureate for Davis.
​
​
Want to read James' Blog?
Two Poems by James Lee Jobe
​
It’s different today, Charlesy,
This is an occupied country.
America, held by force.
America, prisoner to the rich fascists,
Prisoner to the police, to money,
Commerce, industry, debt,
War for profit, debt, stupidity.
America, prisoner to hatred.
Hard to believe that about forty five years
Have passed since we rode my truck
Through the back streets of Dallas,
Getting high, music up loud,
Reaching in each other’s pants in the dark.
And the Dallas police laughed at you,
A skinny girl who told them off,
Yelling that their search was illegal.
We had to pour out the beer,
We were only seventeen years old,
But they left the pot alone, pretending
Not to see it. You were right,
The search really was illegal.
And I was proud of you. Later, high,
You held me tight in your little fist
And my fingers were in you.
Did we want more? Yes... and no.
We were still just scared kids, really,
And we finished with our hands
And drove off down the street,
Feeling wild and sexy and brave.
No fascists controlled us, we were free.
We made our own choices.
​
​
Check my pockets. ​I am not tame, and I do not obey.
That is not my nature, friend.
I am not going to beg at the breakfast table like a dog.
A flag of welcome? A welcome mat at the door? Hardly.
Check my hands for a weapon. Check my pockets, my car.
I am a snake. I am a hyena, a professional liar.
And I will smile like a child just before I strike.