Under his pinky ring
the faded image
of a ring.
a pair of inky spectacles.
shimmer beneath shirt,
set of garments complete
with phantom buttons
and zippers and
They call him a
There’s so much more
to him than
meets the eye.
IN PRAISE OF HER
Eyes ready to pop from her head, she still
does not give in, pride of station
like that of a Japanese courtesan or child
pharaoh or tightly corseted lady of the
Victorian era. Small discomforts will be
taken in stride with a quick furtive tuck,
unobserved. But the tension! No archer
ever pulled his bowstring so tight, so
many pounds of potential kinetic energy,
such a quiver. She fears neither the sudden
gust of wind nor the necessity of a sharply
turned head nor the rough hands
of a impassioned lover. Her mien speaks
to the outer world of defiant self-reliance:
The word disheveled is not in my lexicon.
Admire my poise and my long, curved
neck. Gaze in wonder at my arching brows,
tremble before the stroke of my lashes.
Monks – always interesting specimens
highly sought after when one has a yen
for a special challenge.
Come away, little monk,
from the chant and the green tea,
spiraling questions turning
look outward instead
dark places, deeper and more mysterious
than any fuzzy navel of yours
endless echoes – chant
Curl up with me, little brother,
slow your breathing – slow, slower
curl up with me,
contract your consciousness
with me tonight.
Biography: Jeffrey Park is a native of Baltimore, Maryland and a graduate of the Johns Hopkins University (BA) and Towson University (MAT). He currently lives with his wife and two dogs in Munich, Germany where he works at a private secondary school, as well as teaching business English to adults. His poems have appeared in Subliminal Interiors, Mobius, Punk Soul Poet, The Corner Club Press, Yes Poetry and elsewhere.