Dale Jensen
Who Says Words with My Mouth
he used shreds of the werewolf novel
detached helpless twined
yes the ropes under your feet
a whirlwind and god becomes risky
a door pushed open
sacrifice must be divine
try to floor on that
when pieces of detective
you the throb of
looking for you
let me read you eyes
out of touch
i don’t remember any
so let me read you mystery
you don’t need any extraneous wind
i’m balancing on my breath
you can sense it your flesh
when your eyes are closed
we faced each other cold and blinking inside the doorway
sacrifice must be desire
only two dimensions necessary
to fall
somewhere an inanimate telephone
another blast of wind and even shrouds become risky
mirror blood inside my heart
horizon of idiolect
hanging behind my fine-toothed wall
you the throb of
Fell
mo red ecre pit
we real lyg o ne
the ni drea m ed
then i dre a med
theyf e ll
int o myh a nds
What Did Like What
fiftyish she wore a green automated sprinkler
so tightly that babbling dogs
were the only helicopter pattern
how we got on together by string
okay he’d read the letter to himself
it said of some sort some sort of sense
were those kids at play?
i’d find lots of afternoons up north
the road broke into flight and then
the whole subject should be piped in
the murder weapon a shift in velocity
you’d be fat by citing place to go
beyond the windows beyond the dune
difficult to resist the great altruist
which is sometimes resistance itself
he realized the killer was
a brick wall opposite the fourth floor
the police station between the library was
the conflicting voices in his head
the solution fell asleep in his arms
the story closes now with a dinner mint hot on his skin
they all got together and discussed the case
i’m not sure instead no what did like what
the lawn still roaming outside
promise mowing under your shoes
Rifled With Every Evidence (after HP Lovecraft)
shells gradually shaped unveiled
no grave well shaped where
took up his old friend time
when the head comes out of it
there was left a space of exposed brickwork
the workmen he appeared seemed to cease
unexplained began
bid hold century-recalling mirror
to grasp with astonishment
where no grave home
time had been rifled with every evidence
frequent sallies hid listening
pallor proved better then any verbal agreement
the doctor with hesitancy windows steamed
the old dark house into the mist
ghouls grave the vengeance and rediscovered
older day creature in the mountains of transylvania
the same body or possession with it
a cache dream he is
small gradually about the mad part
not been kept amiss of fine bluish gray dust
your ghosts gathered with other times
the wonderful sunlight singing
Barbie Watch
infamous barbie watch
barbie watch infamous
barbie infamous watch
infamous watch barbie
watch barbie infamous
watch infamous barbie
Dale Jensen was born in Oakland, California, graduated from the University of California at Berkeley in 1971, and received a master’s degree in experimental psychology from the University of Toronto in 1973, with which he said goodbye to academia forever. In 1974, he embarked on a career with Social Security that lasted until 1999, when he took early retirement. He lives in Berkeley and is married to the poet Judy Wells and has seven books and five chapbooks out.