Here's a handful of poems written by Jonathan--selected from a file titled "Personal Favorites as Judged By Me"...
Oh
Oh, to have invented the universe!
To have fashioned the kit-and-caboodle
From silly-string and nitroglycerine.
Oh, to have been
the wit
To come up with it
All.
Oh, to be the topmost link in the chain!
To preside and ride magic-carpetly
Over seraphim and dandelions.
Oh,
to never go
Above
or below
Me.
Oh, to be deciphered a priori!
To be the primest number, the peerlessest
Civilian in all possible worlds.
Oh,
to be only Am,
Forever
wide and
Tall.
Oh, that I had known me in the womb!
To have witnessed my shift from globule
To thumb-sucking roly-poly.
Oh, to have known my
Fortunate stars by
Now.
Renaissance
There’s this man by the river strumming an arch-top Gibson
Singing
antique songs, and this loose-dressed woman
Who
dances beside him—harmonizing, clapping,
Luring cash
into the coin-poor case; and they made me want
To
dust off my handful of chords and play.
There’s this woman down the lane disappearing into
sun-glare,
Posing
with the live oaks, far beyond the camera’s focus,
Who
adorns herself with Spanish moss—a crown,
A shawl, a
boa to her hips; and she made me want
To
forget my limping leg and sprint the promenade.
There’s this man in Chippewa Square twisting palmetto roses,
Telling
vast lies—the blind gullah
Who
taught him the many underlaps
And
overtucks of the trade—and he made me want
To
close my eyes and fashion a flower from a tree.
Bear and Salmon (Live-Cam at Brooks Falls)
Brown bear atop the falls, eyes
Locked on the foam; an urgency
Of fins pelt the heron-
Patient beast—portrait of awkward
Majesty. When now and
then
Lucky maws clamp in purchase,
She shoulders into the plunge
To eat her catch on the banks,
Trailed by a covetous gull.
What Seemed Like Good Ideas
Karaoke at Gabe’s
for the umpteenth,
Singing country
for cowboys dribbling
Swill on
shave-nicked chins and calling
For encores.
Ordering curried
fish in London first
Things first, to
pop off a flare for fitting
In—wincing at
warm bitters and staring
Whole fish in the
eyes.
Pushing all in
against a sprung-eyed
Geezer with seven
ways of grinning,
None of which
guaranteed a sure-fire
Flush or higher.
Quarry dives at
Warrior, skinny legs,
White and
wobbling, water-painted girls
Dripping mascara,
quoting movies
We liked that
summer, that summer in particular.
Crash course
mistakes learned hard
Against the Gulf
Coast, knee-deep in cold
Breakers, feet
numb, and paper-white herons
Scaring the rest
of the hell out of me.
Days set aside
for anticipating nights
When the
kaleidoscope rattled, twisted
By unseen
hands—tree branches cricketing
Havoc on the
stars.
