jennifer mann

At Denny’s

They talk of Jim–
a lover; a friend.

One of the women uses the word philosophize,
but it doesn’t coordinate with her
coiffure and gold jewelry.

Someone doesn’t appreciate her attempts at friendliness in the workplace.

A little flirting with the waiter and
now the ordering–

Bacon–lots of bacon,
in honor of Jim no doubt.

Over hash browns and Dr. Pepper,
they talk of high school basketball,
knee problems, and anatomy,

while “Hang on to What We Got”
plays in the background.

Hundertwasser

I want to get lost in his spirals and stems
aboriginal flora,
mosaicked circuitry.

I want to live in his imperfect cities
lush and labyrinthine
bustling with blues, reds, and yellows.

I want to feast on his concoctions
lollipopped and decadent,
Willy Wonkan excess.

Knee deep in pigments
unabashed and
paroled,
I want
to.

Jennifer Mann loves living in Portland, Oregon, where she teaches, writes, and makes things.

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