Three Poems by Jennifer Lemming

 

Red Eye Special

 

I am on a plane trip from Austin to Boston and back,

and my back aches from jet lag and shouldering

carry-on luggage as I sprint from terminal point

to terminal point, passing Lewis & Clark, a waiting pair

in a long line to board for The Northwest Passage,

but as I pass Clark, he catches my eye, winks,

and gives a knowing nod, acknowledging

that my modern post-modern portage

is worthy of today’s traveller.

 

Just before I arrive at my gate, I pass an impatient Nietzsche,

in line to buy a ticket for a plane going Nowhere,

but he is still arguing with the counter person,

insistent on a window seat. I check through, and boarding

the plane I so hope Sam Houston isn’t seated

next to me again. On my last flight to Austin, he did nothing

but belly ache and brag, his mutton- chop sideburns

tickling my left cheek.

Kung Fu High School

 

There were some guys

in my high school that thought

they were cool cats, real cool cats.

taking swift steps, their feet flying

fancy in prayer and supplication

to the Church of Cool, raising

their arms with intention but

executing clumsy karate chops

in the air accompanied by

fake Kung Fu sounds.

 

These same guys, holding out their hands

that were thick as paws, palms downward

with fingers flexed told me their hands

were registered with the police as deadly

weapons then pressing their palms together

in front of me, waiting for my awe.

 

Black cats, and white cats,

calico cats the multi-coloured cats,

all cool cats. School teacher assigning

a reading to a class of waiting tigers,

who are switching their tails, and in Art classes,

the instructor admonishes tense felines,

Draw this. Draw this line.

Rose Parade

 

I see a rose and pick the bloom on my morning walk

And rub the petals between my fingers,

I bend my head and touch my nose to its center.

I bite, grinding the petal between my teeth,

Lifting my head, with a piece of petal still in my mouth

I continue my morning walk and I listen to myself

As I hum a little song about roses.

 

Jennifer Lemming won Grand Prize for her poetry in the Dancing Poetry Contest in 2019. Her poems and short fiction have been published in online and print journals. Her latest chapbook, Star Slough, was published by Dark Heart Press, March 2019. She lives in Bismarck, North Dakota.