Two leaves twist their way to the light thru a narrow crack in the wall. Enough warmth, enough water follows a path inward. Jake St. John’s hunger for humanity to find its way thru its own construct-via-destruct mode, for us to flower further, is a deep need he draws from the world his students have been left with, and from his own possible futures. Every day is Labor Day after all. St. John calls for a vigilance, whispers it, yells it into the faces at the bar. What we settle for defines us. Swirling in his head is everything he’s ever read, every road he’s traveled on. Whitman, Ginsberg, Kerouac, Dr. Williams all have his ear. Coming under the tutelage of such as Tom Weigel, a transplanted Lower East Side now New London hub of poetic frenzy, touched Jake with live wires. These meditations are some of the recent results of taking living seriously and with serious humor throughout. If ever I have heard a voice in the crowded wilderness cry out, “Wake up! Wake up!” it is the voice of Jake St. John. His ears hear; his eyes see; his heart beats a world-weary rhythm toward this-world redemption.
Enjoy these pieces of a man-made-whole, from one who notices the nuances of humans living in the larger world and addresses both and all. I have found sunflowers herein among the ringing choruses… from the introduction by John Landry
Jake St. John’s latest chapbook, Looking For Sunflowers, is available for $6 from Good Cop/Bad Cop Press. To purchase a copy contact Daniel Buroughs at email@example.com