An Ordinary Evening in West Memphis
Lucinda, the muse, was half right,
singing “maybe” while looking
east toward the bridge with
its sky reflecting pink then turning
west to see the delta’s flat out
purple sunset joy.
Jon Densford of Memphis, Tennessee crossed high bridges over the Mississippi River more than a hundred and thirty times in 2020, but never once felt tempted to stop and then jump.
No word can hide
in a poem like
Jon Densford of Memphis, Tennessee is trying to memorize “The Lake Isle of Innisfree”— just in case.
The next night the full moon
wasn’t full any more,
just full of itself
and so broiling hot
it sweat diamond sweat drops
that hung in the sky
like melting stars.
Jon Densford, of Memphis TN, tried howling at the moon but found out the hard way that the moon don’t take no sass.
Inside my fortune cookie
I find nothing –
no paper slip,
no words, no winning numbers –
but a presence of almonds
grown on a rain-soaked hillside.
Jon Densford lives in Memphis and has had several poems appear in print and online publications, including his favorites Right Hand Pointing and One Sentence Poems.
The master encouraged me to seek
the mind of an old armadillo
with a red parachute
climbing a cottonwood tree.
Jon Densford prefers the oldest and southernmost of the two highway bridges spanning the big river that links his hometown of Memphis, Tennessee to the Land of Opportunity.
(Found in the Syllabus Philosophy 176: Death, Open Yale Courses)
“There will be no final exam.”
Jon Densford of Memphis, TN, thinks you should listen to Caroline Bergvall read Shelley’s MontBlanc (“Pervaded With That Ceaseless Motion”) free of charge on the World Wide Web.
Gullible ‘Bout Bach
We almost convinced him that “Wachet auf, ruft uns die Stimme”
translates “Foolish virgin! Awaken and shake your money maker!”
Jon Densford of Memphis, Tennessee strongly prefers to be left-justified, but he has sometimes pivoted to the center.