Jeffry Michael Jensen

Zoom Upon a Summertime

Dylan could sit in Candy’s kitchen for hours

and not drink a beer or scratch his beard.

No, Dylan didn’t think that he deserved a medal,

a passionate French kiss, or anything equally notable

for being so baffled and memorized by her.

Well, maybe a French kiss--if it is not

too much trouble--would hit the spot.

Candy lived in an upstairs loft with a fantastic

view of Dylan’s very most favorite watering hole.

Unfortunately, he has been worried lately that a bad brew

may keep him out of circulation for the duration.

On occasion, Dylan has almost fallen prey

to the moon’s early morning tantalizing mush.

It could have been a real “jungle rumble summer tumble”

as his uncle Big Aristotle once removed always said

after drinking like a flounder on a Friday night.

Without a doubt, Candy has been a truly committed tai chi teacher,

and also has pulled inspiration from the healing power of hummingbirds.

Yet, Dylan has kept quiet about his attempt to find salvation inhaling wildflowers.

They both had parents who insisted that they read only the Harvard Classics.

They both had parents who went Presbyterian in a pinch.

Dylan gave up on shimmering vacations after his head

got infected with a terrible case of surrealism.

Candy looks at this character imperfection as being worse

than any motion sickness in the hole of a ferryboat.

And to make matters really scallopy funky—in came the crows and parrots,

parrots and crows—all for one and in a teasingly loopy sense of grace.

Somewhere there is a disapproving classic with the wisdom of an alligator,

or maybe it is some sketchy astronaut going predatory zoom zoom

on a valley library iPad that put their spotty summer in its place.