Jenny Enochsson


backbench in parliament six years ago
towel stinging hairs against his skin
fermented linoleum like wide puffy skate
or silly squashed giant whoopee cushion
in the floor drain a spongy mass
perhaps some kind of semi-living
tissue he touches it with his little toe
nausea combined with fascination

the organism’s beauty and exposure
the electricity beating against velum
(that swedes often call palate sail)
gas lamp crackle in the floor craters
and curly nails all vitality he has stopped
playing parliamentary computer games
downy at dusk and the thrushes in
the larch-trees were also awake

supreme spring floods and microcosms at
vacuum cleaner bag bottoms still flourishing
he bought all sorts of frictional sneakers in vain
because now he has sprouting elastomer sinew.

Wind-force 2 Beaufort

Some poseurs’ uniform
bodies in migraine-sharp light
they drink wasabi shots with oil of vitriol
for recreational purposes rather reversed
the refreshment per se may just as well
rest on top of a catafalque

But they have ordered concave-convex
breakfast cereals with a component that
might prevent the possibility to begone
so instead they worry about biceps chaps
while exercising the market flexibility flux

A glider leaving the downtown’s digitized
cook-a-doodle-doo and dandy doodlebugs
wind-force 2 beaufort ahead

Red admiral butterflies teasing the ether
pheasants’ pompous mating march
a flutist like a flamboyant flower beetle
sun sprinkle as through colibri throats.

little gull

the terrier with astigmatism has
just left his shaggy new master
the pooch is almost hit by a beige bus
because of above-mentioned error of refraction
then he watches valter who looks like a
couch among scratched convex neon signs

the horizon breath like newly blossomed
gunpowder smoke from a mute cliff mouth
the willow knobs are wooden fists
a little gull hmm hardly pc of swedes
to call it dwarf gull.

Streetcar in Slush

Slick jingling ride with
gurgling hurdy-gurdy and a-jolting
a man with frizzy toupee his only
flamboyant feature brushes his coat
a woman’s navel-length hair
is attracted to his virgin tweed
her false eyelashes like gills
chewing-gum like glitter green
frog blisters between her fangs

Girls and boys in blazers
some dangling designer gewgaw
and tartan round their necks
young conservatives’ retro is
unfortunately prevailing as it
never really disappeared

Once Ardennes-drawn vehicle
static cymbals on snowed over rail
ahead despite thawy hill backbeat
many people get off then they slide
down foehn-like on tailless vertebrae
oversized grains of sand cut
through trouser textile N.B. there
are individuals with that bent
jam slapstick, you know

A jaguar in awful animal transport
the Gulf Stream’s soothing
effect is easily exaggerated but
little lion tamarins in a window
make obscene gestures very rightly.

Jenny Enochsson (b. 1976) lives in Uppsala, Sweden. Her poems have been published in ditch, The Meadowland Review and Otoliths. Also, Jenny is a member of the creative community Flowers of Sulfur and the blog fosebooks, dedicated to FoS publications and projects. For more information visit her personal blog Cinnamon.
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Blogger Arkava said...

some refreshing work here Jenny. enjoyed. especially backbench

"tissue he touches it with his little toe
nausea combined with fascination

the organism’s beauty and exposure
the electricity beating against velum
(that swedes often call palate sail)"

6:14 AM  

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