Tuesday, July 17, 2012

A Poem by Bill Jansen

Madam Zsa Zsa

As peach tree
rings a neighbor's doorbell.

I hope they got my apology
at the Pia Mater Gym.

(space junk floats by there)


I had to delete Madam Zsa Zsa
who is really too interesting
to write about.

(Listen to really good jazz
be a stupid tourist
wherever you are
don't listen to jazz
or be a stupid tourist)

OK, I get that part, Madame Zsa Zsa.

But I don't know why lovers care
why everyone is so kind.

It is a morning to watch

It is a morning to watch

miniature landings
on a blackberry airport
behind my apartment

Pans and coffee cups
soak in the kitchen sink.
Past the chain-link fence
where the airport hangs,
an industrial lot,
machinery on gravel:
something with a long curving neck.

I seal myself in an envelope
postmarked thirty years ago
(a 5-cent stamp--blue jays on motorcycles)
as the microwave timer nears zero.

The envelope is now
in the all-purpose drawer
with batteries and tax returns.

The little landings and take-offs continue.
A starling imitates a feral calico cat
slamming into the fence.

Bill Jansen lives in Forest Grove, Oregon. Some of his work has appeared in
The Centrifugal Eye, Cirque, and Asinine Poetry.

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