Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Jeffry Jensen


The years strike an amusing blow as
blotches of talent only mimic a mastery
that once tore at the roots of an impulse.
This vintage impulse now has turned vulgar on fertile youth.
The aging rocker takes refuge in a continuous
night that swirls with a captive beat.
He must play off of charity and indifference as
he longs for a forgotten lover to fill a feather bed.
With a brandy for courage, he thrives in
the sanctuary of a wobbly whitewashed stage.

1 comment:

  1. "tore at the roots" and "wobbly whitewashed stage" grab at me - the first is beautifully vicious and the second so evocative.