Star Status

Demi Star dims.
Her phase is waning.
She’s never really been
The mass potential
The Mother Star was,
Or a Gassy Giant like Him.
What will become of the Shining One,
Dwarfing in Red’s lesser glow?
Disappointment’s gravity determines her status—
Querulous, sullen, Black Hole.

-jenn long

Sometimes Our Shadow Outweighs Us

Sometimes our shadow outweighs us.

It can pull us down into its lair,

Where the grotesque shapes confound us

In two-dimensional style.

Strange proportions taunt us

To look just a little too long,

And marvel that things could be different,

And wonder which illusion is wrong.

 

-jenn long

Mooring

When I die,
Don't bury me
Under corded sand
Of some barren prairie.
Tear out the stale pages
Of Shakespeare and Poe,
And cover me over with them.
Then rip out the heart
Of Emily's best.
Fold them, origami,
... Into a vest,
And a pearl,
And an Earl,
And a print-stained rose,
And let me moor, too, in Eden.

-jenn long

Rack 'Em

I racked the balls of my own theology

While straddling a fence of the insurmountable,

Right in the face of evidence contrary

And the substance of things unseen.

Except for the aid of micron-electroscopes,

My naked eye strained to comprehend,

But in the light of such blinding pain

And questions of future reproduction,

Matters shifted visibly and my better priorities

Rose to the top with the cream.

 

-jenn long

Language Barrier

Oh, he was a cunning linguist.
He spoke in a torrid whisper.
I tried to return his advances,
But was just a cunning listhper.
Maybe my accent fell upon
The em-PHAS-is of wrong syl-AB-les,
Or maybe the breath marks confused me
Until I wasn't able
To comprehend any language.
Not a single phrase he uttered
Til he pulled me over and stared at my mouth
And watched me while I stuttered.
But when we were together,
There was never a misunderstanding,
Our bodies talked without a word,
Masters of understatement.

-jenn long

An Even Bettter Punchline

The most intimate thing we'd ever done
Was laugh in bed together.
He'd tell a joke,
And then we'd make up
An even better punch line.
Then, like swallowtail butterflies
In thrombosis- deep migration,
Our chuckles would flutter up
And pop on the chandelier.
The laugh lines moved us to a place
Where the horrors of life couldn't touch us.
Our cheeks might hurt,
But every other pain would always disappear.

-jenn long

Manchurian Candidate

I was pretty sure

There was a chip inserted

Here and there just under my skin.

I seemed to go AWOL

And Manchurian Candidate

Without my Soul’s approval.

But an X-ray revealed the basic truth:

Simple neuromuscular junctions

Carried out the willful missions

Of my own diabolical brain.

 

-jenn long