Thick as a Brick

I’m laying it on real thick today

I’m gonna see just who can handle it

I got Herbie Hancock on my radio Squealing out the Watermelon Man

I’m in the drive-through of Wendy’s

About to try out this big heavy smear of seduction

On the man in the cashier window

A big husky crow is perched on a Yaupon Holly bush to my right

He’s got half a hotdog bun in his beak 

And he’s ready to fight

Anyone who tries to steal it

And Herbie is still squealing some funky beats

And I’m in a state of happy bliss

I’ve just been kissed by an angel 

My heart’s been pricked 

And I’m feeling sexy

So I’m smearing it around 

I’m gonna lay it on real thick 

And see who can handle it

-jenn

 Guitar Man

In the other room I hear 

The guitar man

He’s tuning up and turning on 

His stack of amps

He’s got new strings

And he’s fussing a blooming for things he doesn’t even need 

Because when he starts to play 

The world comes up to speed

On the state of his heart

Some evergreen 

Eversweet music 

Buds like leaves from his fine tree

The notes uncurl

The melodies call to me

And I’m just in here putting on my socks

The guitar man 

Without a words describes the state of things 

Out in the cosmos

And let me tell you

Things are mighty good 

Because even if we humans fail

To see it 

The music knows

That everything is moving like it should 

Straight to its destination 

Like the rivers to the sea

And I’m just in here putting on my socks 

When I hear him say to me

Goodnight Sweeetheart

-jenn 

 I’m so impatient feeling today.

I’ve moved to town.

I’m waiting for my glass to fill 

Through the narrow water spigot 

On my refrigerator.

If I could take my cup down to the creek 

Below the hill where I now live,

I could dip it in,

And have it overflow in two seconds.

But they tell me that water is polluted,

And I must buy my water from the city.

First they go and tell you 

That you ought to buy a house.

Then they smile and say,

“Now you’ve got to go ahead and pay

To get connected to the waterline.”

This is why some cousins of mine cut a hole in their floor,

And then they cut one in their roof.

The first one so that they could poop,

The second, so that they could build a fire

In their living room, so they could stay warm and cook.

And the guys in ties’ll make fun of the natives,

But after a while the collection agencies decided

It wasn’t worth it to repossess their trailers.

My cousins traded in their first world woes.

I have traded in my business clothes

For some secondhand sweat pants and a brand new cat,

And I still got a little wampum buried in a mason jar in my backyard.

I’m thinking of seeing if I can get

A little portable water purifier for that.

Then I can go down to the creek to get my water,

And maybe I’ll eat the cattail roots while I’m there,

And shoot fire and save the matches,

And see if me thumbing my nose catches on,

Or see if I only find some second world woes to hang onto

When it comes to putting my laundry on the line.

-jenn

 My yard is dead.

My sunflowers, now, are only stalks,

But maybe this is a season 

Of passive rest

And contemplation?

Yet even as I write,

I see the squirrels

Digging up and eating the seeds 

They planted when 

The summer shifted down into autumn.

But they will leave a few of them,

Maybe purposely?

And the machine we know

As earth, going round the gear called sun,

Will crack them open one by one

And turn them green,

And shoot them from the cold grey dirt

And up into the cog that we call spring.

But for today,

Everything says,

“Enough is enough,”

And pulls the covers up into neutral again 

For another coast into

The long winter’s nap I call “The Winter Blues.”

-jenn

 Love Made Music

I’m snowed in

And can’t even find the door.

The blindness came 

By staring through a frosty window,

Or was it the deep blue flames I saw in you

While you burned?

Was it snow,

Or did I go to sleep in your arms,

And fall for your charms in a dream

While you played a melody on your guitar?

I don’t know,

But all that I can see

Are unique flakes of notes and tones

Falling around me,

Melting into my skin.

I find myself hoping the snowstorm never ends,

And that we can stay 

And live in this beautiful box

That music built,

Forever and a day,

Snowed in with you,

And the beautiful music that Love made.

-jenn 

Getting Bigger

She cries because her ass has gotten fat,

But she only has a minute.

The baby is waking from his nap.

He’s hungry, but he won’t ever eat.

She tries to show him how.

“Watch mommy now!

Mmmmmmmmmmm, yum yum English Peas!”

A glimpse in the mirror, 

Surely it can’t be that bad!

She cries because her ass has gotten fat,

But she only has a minute.

Her heart isn’t really in it right now,

But someday...

Someday, yes, she’ll sit down

And have herself a very good cry.

-jenn

 Passing 

If I don’t think of getting you a gift,

If I forget to say, “Merry Christmas,”

If my eyes seem far away 

Looking at a distant life,

My dreams are dying right before your eyes.

I’m passing away.

I’m changing like the light that passes through 

A prism, white, breaking up

Into red, orange, yellow, blue,

Indigo and violet.

And everything I’ve ever thought was true,

Wasn’t,

And even myself.

I’m a mystery to me

Springing (eternally springing) 

From the darkness deep within the darkness itself.

I’m passing through

The night into the day.

My dreams are dying right before my eyes,

And that is good.

I’m passing away

And making way for something new

To become of myself.

(And that’s good, too,

Or maybe that’s just the way..... it is.)

-jenn

 I’m waiting for a special day

To call and ask you why 

You forgot to say hello to me,

But while I wait,

I, myself, can come up with

A thousand reasons

That might’ve done the trick,

But it seems they all boil down to two:

You couldn’t,

Or you just didn’t want to.

Now many special days have passed,

And somehow, I’ve never had the nerve 

To ask you, yet,

But don’t forget 

The answer to why

I didn’t call to say goodbye.

I have my reasons just like you.

There could be a thousand, but

They always only ever boil down to two:

I couldn’t,

Or

I didn’t want to.

-jenn

 I have this chance to meditate

While the wind from the south east

Blows my hair across my

Face

At the same angle the sun beams shine down on

And one great tree sits between me

And the sea

And the tree waits oh so patiently 

There is a gate by the undisturbed shore

That opens to a beach 

Where only nudists go anymore 

And I will wait 

Like that tree

But for now there is no decision to make

No direction to take 

But only the angle of the sunbeams is changing

The wind, rearranging my hair

Leaves are falling

Church bells are calling

And I have this random chance to meditate 

This beautiful opportunity 

To look within with my eyes closed

And see the mandala change 

Like a kaleidoscope I’m holding up to the sun

And the leaves are falling

And I feel the pain and the hope

Of every single one of them

As they make their way down

The leaves can’t wait 

But I’m going to meditate 

Here with that tree

While we have this random chance

Until all my mandalas have fallen 

Like the leaves of this great tree

And then we will open the gate together 

And wade through the nudists

Down to the water

And bathe one another 

In the great waters that lie just beyond 

The limits of humanity

 When I opened the door 

And saw him standing there

In front of me,

I dropped my books, and all my papers went flying down.

I felt like a fool,

But my friend had seen.

She came and helped me gather my things,

Though in my mind, I saw myself leave them there

And go to him,,

And throw my arms around his neck

And give myself something to truly feel foolish for.

But I mutter under my breath,

While I’m squatted in humility,

“Have you ever seen something so unnatural?”

And my friend whispers back to me,

Assuring me now,

How natural humiliation really is.

She says:

“I’ve seen a tree 

All shook up by the autumn breeze. 

It’s leaves shivered

And then suddenly, it dropped its acorns.”

-jenn