Jenny + Chris

Asteroids

Word Find 3

Jenny

A wordmonster by Jenny: Chris

Jen's Bio Paper

Aquifer awareness is
not a priority
in the realm of
conservation consciousness

pocket compost (poetry fusion with Erin & Emily)

snow melting, a grayscale
reduction to green, a drip
drop a stream sputtering a (seasonal)
war’s last bombshells.

ice shattering like teacups
against a wall, she picked
up a fragment to remember
where winter is real a

long, fat torpedo of ice
put in her pocket.
She came home to me melting,
the middle of school longing to

be mine & slipping love notes
into her pockets without eye contact
the folded sailboats float,
skimming over the ice

my latest invasion of space, the sailboats paper bouquets
slowly unzipping, memories
discharged; you brushing your teeth,
orange slice shadows—the half moons

glowing peeled &
I threw them away before you were
ready, so now you collect
a stream in your pocket, as not to forget

winter, oranges, & the moon.

WAL-MART REX, a word monster by Jenny

finger food

my fingers picked up
lunch from
the doorknob--double
bacon cheeseburger grease &
fries with mayo-- for
half price

bedtime

spring [fixer]

push through papers
white winter in reams
& listen

a shuffle a sorting
an arrangement made
to

put away the old
cold papers blanketing
the garden

no they aren't fertilizer
but a type of
scythe

to cut & paste a
way the waste
& peel

& bloom & whisper
the slow sound
of growing aaaaa .

spring [throwback SPINBALL FIGHT]

cultural currency update
while white computer screens
load
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa a walk in
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa crunching snow
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa white indents
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa foot prints
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa perfect for
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa packing
instant access
rolling down scrolling snowballing
screen
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa collecting
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa in drifts
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa each unique
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa crystal
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa blends to
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa pure vanilla
(democratic) society is
based on consensus, a
percentage of agreeability
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa the tighter
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I pack flakes
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa between red
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa mittens the
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa more time she
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa has to throw
just two sides shaping
policy & echo chambers
reinforcing ideas
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I am intentionally
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa missing her; snow
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa over shoulder
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa just
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa the sound
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa slipping by
influencing events
through the exclusion
of information
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa she knows
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I am missing
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa & when I
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa hit her in
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa the back a
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa puff of snow
spin a ball of flattery
a snow job to
crystallize public opinion
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa leaning low
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa as she aims
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa for my head,
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa waiting for
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa an icy
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa blast
a two-way flow
of snow
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa warm breath
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa from my mouth
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa to hers
or nothing at all.

spring [opening]

when the trees
wake up &
the grass smells
& the leaves
smell & the small
birds sing, sing &
feed their young
& sing & rain is warm
it smells & sings as it
drizzles in the sun
drops on the leaves
catches on blades
collecting in drops
it all sings

spring .

why Jenny doesn't go in the water

something at the seashore a stick
or a lost plastic toy shovel something at the
shore nipping the back of her leg a
bag swinging from her back swishing as
she walks something forgot a snack a carryall something
tapping her heal in uncomfort for a moment
when eyes close the flash image that remains
the unknown a clump in the sand unconscious connecting
cheap rubber plastic sandal while walking
splinters stuck in sand a stick for the umbrella
poking objects just below the surf & her
father pulling a three foot sandshark out
angles in the wake a pull sand over toes
on his fishing line just beyond where we swim
sure she will carry the brown bag & keep the sand out
we swim where we dodge a wave or put up a screen
a scream against the washing away the fading a
way something at the sore sun burnt shoulders toes
always burnt where the sandal slips between the
big toe & that unnamed next toe a space for skin
to peel a grape a juice box a novel something sticking
in the sand a stick or a lost toy shovel made of
yellow plastic where is the missing bucket buried
beneath lurking in the darkness the sand below the water
shed the moist brownie inside just below the surface
keep the sand out collecting in the bag bottom
flushed away washed away torn out a subscription
the hook remained in the spotted shark’s skin a
hermit crab carryall a grape peeled sun burnt skin
the castle that we built washed away the next morning with
the tide carrying bags a snack chairs water wears glass
dull a grape without the skin blushing nipping
fingertips while swimming putting up a screen
invisible line between hook and hand
a juice box a sandal slipping from aloevera
between the toes the ground looks brown behind
glasses dropped in surf scuttle like a crab
white on top pulled reeled like a plastic toy
a stick a shovel a castle made of sand white
underneath cloths shorelines in skin never
on a boat without a life preserver a stick
plastic probably a safety whistle to call
for help an invisible line snagged in surf footprints
one missing a sandal plastic slipping away
half a print overexposed toe red severe sun burnt purple
grape great gatsby on the beach read something
sappy something juicy candy a stick of gum with
a whistle plastic inside that you dropped in the
sand put at the top as a flag foot for the castle
a slip up a tide shift the music of a vendor in
a refrigerated truck novelty dug deep brownie
coloured to protect the eyes reuses the grains
a little cake made with the hands a foundation
glass with edges worn dull pulling the pop
dug deep from the leaking steaming cold
spritz splash the noise of a wave crash lurking refrigerated
juice box a stick with chocolate frozen to it
a drop clumped in the sand snagged the hook sunk
a bucket looks lost without a plastic shovel a toy
a tradition a snapping a roar as the shark breaks free
as the beach renews with tide tables a white shoreline
brownies near the surf near the wake a fading footprint
a scuttle a skirmish running away from a stick, a shovel
or a shark.

greg on the typewriter

so small
his fingers
could not
put enough
pressure
on the keys
to form
language.

Word Find Fun #1

The refrigerator is empty

& I stand
frozen &

waiting with
the little bulb

reflecting off
the blank

white corners
groceryless.

Class Notes: Rule #35

RT476

on my lap
over yesterday's Times
I pour,
from a silver
magic thermos
bullet container,
tea.

eighty
miles-per-hour
forty
sips-per-minute
photosynthesized &
dried leaves delivering
a fix.

two hours in a
car, the bead seat
cover becomes you,
& I forget where
I am going
if the audio book
is good.

all driving
distances
should be diluted--
a scoop of sugar
& stirred with
crème--a voice
reading to me

old bedtime stories,
a tale of a whale
the highway washing
headlights & redlights
as landfalls
in crystal blue
eyes.

Class Notes: A Communication Model

the goose at 589

Canada has covered the field
with a gaggle of goose, not geese.
Passports not valid,
vacation in the states.

Citizenship shifting,
a honking sound
traffic on 84 North shifting
to 15 North honking at the border,

What is the purpose of your visit?
What are you here to see?
Travel is more instinct, seasons change
& people must move.

How I passed the Comprehensive: Lights out at 7:30, a poem.

Top drawers no longer
mine filled with

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa socks too small
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa for my feet.

he is growing up
He is growing out
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa His space extends
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa beyond bunk beds.

The bookshelves are packed
stacked with old volumes

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Sherlock Holmes handed down
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa & blocked out by a plastic fire truck.

“I lost my first tooth today”
pressed under a pillow

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa that smells of apple juice
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa not sweat.

a first grader who wants
to be a fireman (not a writer)

aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa HE is growing up
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa HIS brother is growing out.

Ring around
the rim
a tea-stained
history

waking up & putting the
water on to boil

a new day viewed on old computers