Seven Sunflowers: a new poem by Jordan

The summer I planted seven sunflowers
I left them in a crooked row
In my backyard, like a fence overseeing
The differences between the sidewalk and dirt

It rained a great deal in June,
And three sunflowers were broken by the storms
Their thin shafts split apart before even
Reaching my knees

The sky opened again in July,
This time it wasn't a storm but a missile
Dropped from the pear tree above
That fell another helpless stalk

The August hail took the fifth,
And so the two flowers left in the dirt
Were left to reach skyward in contest
Side by side, two towers overseeing.

It wasn't until September,
When those two flowers extended overhead
That they started unfolding,
Their heads blinking for the first time

The first sunflower to bloom
Lived for one day before the neighborhood
Children smashed the stem and left
The head scattered on the sidewalk

One sunflower, the strongest
Who had made it since late May,
It stood alone, one tower overseeing
A killing field and a thoroughfare

The last sunflower died on the same day
The FBI raided the houses of war protesters
Searching for totems akin to terrorism
But their guns were drawn at the wrong neighbors

It was the third day of autumn,
And I stepped out in my backyard
Only to find the strongest of them all
Cut down at the knees, beheaded.

Confrontations Released!

The release reading was a spectacular vernacular success. Please contact skullandpoems@gmail.com for your very own copy of Confrontations: a Skull and Poems Reader for approximately $10 and thank you to all who already own it... you'll be thanking yourselves later!

Cold Shoulder/Initial 8 Deal

Jon/The Cold Shoulder has 8 books to sell to the hardcore fans. In each of these initial eight, he will scrawl a different poem of his unincluded in the anthology--devaluing the publication significantly. First come, first serve.

x-posted.

Ibyang Muñeca

They called her “Ibyang Muñeca,”

“China Doll from the Midway"

and like a thousand other monikers

she’d answer to

drunk with friends that she adopted,

made a family out of strangers--

knew her core but like two of them knew her name.

Tough lover and a Turf Club regular,

slammed every door decisively--

some function of her nature--

and danced out loud to car alarms,

bathed in sweat or rain

twisted fluently, twisted fluency

when gawkers gawked--

“out-of-town-tourist-trash,” she’s sing.

Loved it when people asked her

“where you from?”

told them “like a million different places,

depending on the day--

wouldn’t recommend Wyoming

but you knew that already.”

Flew her independent nation flag

without it being stupid bangs,

esoteric ink, piercings, or pulled together poetry--

told me I was dumb to look for meaning in her laugh lines.

weekly post 1

Untitled

The humid minnesota summer days are nothing
compared to the fog in my mind from the nights
i stayed up late talking with you
the wet air pressing in on me tightens
the knots my thoughts have been tied up in

with thoughts tied and tongue loose
i have spoken a steady stream of mixed emotions
confusing to us both, lying to us
both without knowing until i sit down
to review our predawn episodes like a movie

it is then that i can see that the character i play
doesn't follow his script but improvises scenes
that have been loosely played out by others
for whatever audience will listen
and you, without any script, have all your lines ready

unfinished

Inflamed Appendix

Confrontations: A Release Reading

Join Skull and Poems Press at the Acadia Cafe on July 14th for the release of their first full group anthology--Confrontations. Featuring music from Kasey McKee and The Prizefighters, your toes will be tappin' all night and the readings from Skull and Poems Literary Society members will rock the socks right off those tappin' toes. Join us at 7:30 for drinks, poems and music. It's not to be missed.

The Inflamed Appendix

Follow the poetry of Jesse Zager/The Inflamed Appendix at: http://inflamedappendix.blogspot.com/