• C. Jensen

effort and reason

that I stare up into the night

surrounded by more night

fear for my life in a lizard way

a lord sips my gimlet

the juniper on the air

isn’t even my breath

do gin and lime

a proletarian drink make?

that I have memorized the alchemical ratios;

flour, sugar and butter

make the same cookie dough

whose recipe is printed on

the Nestle Tollhouse chocolate chips

a company that will not guarantee

their golden cacao isn’t harvested

by the leaden labors of

enslaved human beings

morsels of Parcelsus

that I stare up into the night

my eyes locking briefly with couplets of stars

yeux staring back at me

witness my smallness

that the muscle memory of my middle right finger

has been groomed

developed a new lizard brain

keen on the refinement of sigils

articulation of runes

alphabets that mean nothing

but sound everything


even flipping a bird

looks poetic

we’re raw

that reviving the earnest ghost of sincerity

in an age of mockery

is an errand for fools

we are applying for the job

we have unlimited potential

a new beginning

that the egg whites starch the shirts

structure the cakes

filter the grapes

that the yolks are left to

eat the rich


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