Mister Misdemeanor
Oh, man that guy
was such a girl
when he cried
like a baby and
then he grew
up to be
a bigheaded
small minded
tight-lipped
tight-wad
and a two-timing
repeat offender
egg white beater
and a
four seater
Dad’s car stealer
and Diet Coke dealer
and then he attempted
a terrible string of rhymes
“love, dove, glove
and the sky above”
which is a crime
in certain
literary circles
and
it got him
a very hard time
A Dubious Miracle
I blame you for
the circles around
my eyes and the
holes in my theories
as well as the rip
in my plans
you have altered
my waistline
and many times
crossed my
boundary lines
and you broke
my favorite heart
and split my
decisions
and you
caused me
to change
my shirt
and my direction
and to
skip dinner
and lose sleep
all because
of your cry
in the darkness
of new life
my cupid-sized
culprit
in a crib
Udder Truth
We feed into the frenzy
of the herd mentality
when we are kids
and our friendships
graze on the “hey” Joe casualness
of our company
and then we slaughter
our bonds over petty
patty-sized disagreements
and then we chew
the cud of estrangement
and we “moo”
as we get milked
by the hands of fate
on the pasteurized pasture
of past and future
and we all have
an expiration date
and on our
carton is
a picture of
the missing
calf-child
we once were
eye’s vacant
in the frigid white coffin
of the fridge
Whatever, Whenever
Was I brought up
just to be brought down?
did I go into this world
only to ultimately retreat
into my own head?
where I think about
the people
on the small set
of this three-act play
(childhood, middle, and
old age)
that ends in
blinds, shades
and curtains
when I will
be born back
to where I came from
some womb, room,
tomb, and some
will say I was
taken too soon
and others
will say
who cares
he is not anyone
anymore, anyhow
Occupy Myself
I just stood there
or sat there
or lay there
as life had
its way with me
and now
I feel used
abused
and I want to
run to a priest
or the police
and tell on
pompous
circumstance
and I will say
like Tricky Dick
that you won’t
always have me
to kick around
because now if reality
violates my humanity
I will not hesitate
to whip out
my taser
or pepper spray
the sucker
—
Ivan Jenson’s Absolut Jenson painting was featured in Art News, Art in America, and Interview magazine. His art has sold at Christie’s, New York. His poems have appeared in Word Riot, Zygote in my Coffee, Camroc Press Review, Haggard and Halo, Poetry Super Highway, Mad Swirl, Alternative Reel Poets Corner, Underground Voices Magazine, Blazevox, and many other magazines, online and in print. Jenson is also a Contributing Editor for Commonline magazine. Ivan Jenson’s debut novel Dead Artist is now available as a paperback and on Amazon Kindle and Nook. His next novel a psychological thriller entitled Seeing Soriah is due to be published this year by Hen House Press New York. More of his work can be found here. (www.ivanjensonartist.com)
