Jeffry Jensen

ON THE HOOK

I read all the papers, all the reports

and was behind in numbness

no one could remind me fast enough

humming under water

waving in the deep end of the pond

grief warming the shark for sleep

school cheers in the heat of a foreign heaven

weight down the bakery with salty bagels

potassium channels surpass the capacity for a cure

arrogant sea horses talk up the hole in the sky

reapers in socks and pants

up from California with swaying goat luck

on a thirsty arrival in the greasy gratitude

of a gesturing salmon seeking sounds to bear

displacing the dull residue of childhood

I count the roofs on one hand

I comb for floors that can hold a family

the sea looks to be half full of sunlit polyps

freshly thrown into the waves with angels

inviting ritual hanging on hooks of that tug

broken and restless as jazz for pennies

chill cross below crazy toppling scaly shut-ins

of weed architecture and barn births

in common chairs with tongues attached

I grin up a storm of clumsy desperation

and listen for a thud of slamming bodies

rows smaller than a scratch in train time

folding a haze of silly hooks into a horoscope

for the fleshy paleness of aging poets

who avoid rubbish in and rubbish out

where ashes fly house to house

and look for ruinous withdrawal

I toil under municipal glass groaning with grit

I staggered yet was no pushover in the nonsense

of annulment in corners with gauges for young fish

someone had to finish the sound of drowning

before the next star was charged for double-parking

a crony universe cut for fools and pushovers

in the blink of a spastic rabbit a forest of frogs

break the rickshaw ceiling of cherry-on-top

vibrations under junctions that jerk hard in pockets

of pleated fields overflowing in plum wine and sprouting coffins

paws up the nearest leg of slip and slide

yawning registers on bone and blade

close the curtains behind uneven stale bread

I rent the swelling taste of gnawed figs and flippers

and spirit away under uncounted candles whittled down to an uneasy flame

I will repeat myself as nocturnal fish bait

I will gulp as a summer fugitive

I look to be old enough to sleep in my own hole

footprints fill out the sentence

that will never settle in the new country

there was a disturbance in the provinces

space was allowed to flourish with debris

time was not allowed to protest

mindless despair went long and thin

I believe in asking before unplugging

it is best to strike before the planet really goes cool

noisy poetry never finds its own season

a care package of empty promises arrived with postage due

I was never good at a solo that promised infinite misery

I take my misery one dose at a time under glass

It is no longer inconceivable that I have

a structural problem swimming in a private school