Alexander Jorgensen


Two Angels Picking Fruit (on a Chilly N.E. Day)

                                                            mel•
                                                            on seed

                              spat to
                              the street &

                                                            skipping
                                                                       rope

                              past, farmland

                                                                       needn't carve: said

                                                            any surface

                                                                                          1 &
                                                                                2
                                                                                &

                                                 words
                                                 words
                                                 words &

                                                      ((SHHHHH))


Like Swallowing Bullets from a Glock

See, just di’n’t understand
what a son-of-a-bitch
I was turning into: box of
100 mountain gorillas
having wanted elegance
t’ be my motorcade &
still cursed the face, “as if’d
been held this loaded gun”.
Among soft-haired girls
rose water, my armpits stank.
Dirty beer, floppy jeans.


Symphony Ode

           Dear,
dear, you—

you that,
           yes,

church
bell
dang-
ling in tow—

odd
end

held in
force &—


Jessica’s Lounge

Did what’s-his-face
ever leave?

           He invited
400 of his closest friends
to the wedding.

           But I
did not think the world
that safe a place
when he finally bought her a diamond.

He took an antihistamine
before saying, I do.


The Stranger

But
HELLO

might
mean

something
itself

if to
salvage

us
and

this
day—



Alexander Jorgensen was born of the most mixed and common stock. An incessant traveler, he has lived in the Czech Republic, a Baroque Servite monastery along the Šumava Mountain Range (Bayerische Wald), the Galapagos Archipelago (San Cristobal Island), and the People's Republic of China (where he has divided his time since 2002).

Of his first, self-published chapbook, In Deference to Ahab, Robert Creeley wrote: "Here persons seem inside out, often at the painful edge of contact, each moment a tacit particularity of the flesh. The brilliance of the poet reassures us, yet this walk on the wild side is as perilous as ever."

His work has most recently appeared or is forthcoming in Jacket Magazine, Pinstripe Fedora, There Journal, Seconds: A Virtual Treasury of Verse and earlier issues of Otoliths. Additionally, he has performed and recorded with the Black Mountain Collective. His collections include In Deference to Ahab and an untitled collaborative effort with illustrator Phillip Nessen.

 
 
 
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