X Marks the Spot, Treasure Hunter

Say you found a map hidden 
Under the innersole 
Of a hiker’s boot way out 
There in the middle 
Of the wide, open spaces 
And you can’t see hide 
Nor hair of the hunter, 
While only a stone’s throw 
Away from the boot the map leads you 
To the jawbone of a dodo 
And the blunderbuss of an ass— 

What’re you waiting for, dude? 
Dig in, you’ve hit pay dirt. 

Laura Jensen's After I Have Voted

After I Have Voted, Laura Jensen, The Gemini Press, Seattle, 1972. Not only is this chapbook Laura Jensen’s first poetry collection, it was also Gemini Press/Madrona Magazine’s first venture into book publishing—quite an auspicious beginning, considering that Laura’s work quickly became nationally recognized—among other things— for its “domestic, stark imagery with complex metaphorical gesture, bridging interior and exterior spheres as [her poetry] traces the shifting, halting, at times unfamiliar landscapes of memory and home.” (Poetry Foundation) Gemini Press later changed its name to Querencia Books and subsequently published titles by Beth Bentley, Robyn Tarbet, Eve Triem, Frank Samperi, J. K. Osborne, John Levy, and yours truly. 

 The title poem: 

AFTER I HAVE VOTED 

I move the curtain back, 
and something has gone wrong. 
I am in a smoky place, 

an Algerian café. 
They turn the spotlight toward me; 
the band begins to play. 

The audience stares back at me. 
They polish off their glasses. 
They ask the waiter, “Who is she?” 

He holds his pen 
against his heart. 
He speaks behind his hand. 

There are tea bags swinging 
from their mouths. 
Their teeth are made of brass. 

The jello sighs into the candlelight. 
My eyes turn into stars. 
Ah—the colored spangles on my clothes, 

the violet flashlights and guitars! 


Also, check out this link to a piece on Laura that appeared on the Poetry Foundation’s site. And one last word—if you happen to come across this thin little gem (24 pp, 18 poems) forgotten on a shelf in some dusty corner of a used bookstore and the price is right, buy it. 

BTW, here’s AbeBooks’ listing for the book--roughly $14 a poem; given the current economic crunch in Hellas, it's too bad I have only one copy left!

Arachnida

in cobwebbed corner
curled up old widow 

in mourning. 

Tell Laura I Love Her

When I was a freshman, I remember 
I’d write a poem every other day or two 
To a girl two years my senior; 

She’d write one back too, 
But to this day I don’t remember 
What happened to them, 

But I can tell you one thing— 
I didn’t write anything 
The day she went away. 

Waiting for the Sandman

On the beach, watching the darkening 

Expanses above and beyond of what seem 
To be dreamy remnants of a childhood 

Imagination, we wait impatiently 
For the imp of the universe to give us 

One more heavenly unfathomable shot. 

Tottering State

Where 

Oddly nothing ought to be 
Taken for granted, 
Naught even 

Your next step. 

Eyeless in Gaza: The Overkill Syndrome

Gentlemen, 

This life-threatening situation can be resolved 
Without needless casualties 

If we keep shelling out bromides to the masses— 
Rest assured, they’ll soon get over it.