September 13, 2017

Three Poems by Jordan Krais: "March," "Siren of the North Shore," and "Uncle David"

Jordan Krais is a tall windblown poet from the suburbs of Long Island. He comes from a long line of liars, poets, and story tellers.


Nothing marches like a Marchen wind
So cold and bold a brutal thing
That no seaside town was found to be
Safe and sound and Marchen free.

Jackets worn were torn from shoulders,
Windows opened made Winds bolder,
Warm weather lured those towards the shore
But blown away and heard no more.

Seaside roads left all abandoned
Where wind swept sand had loft and landed,
Buildings boarded, all gulls grounded,
“Fuck you March” heard hushed but sounded.

Siren of the North Shore

Elyse, Elyse, it’s not so bad.
There’s rocks for sure but also sand
And the Sun, she shines, or at least gazes
And guess what? There’s no waves here!

Long Beach is nice, I’m sure, I’m sure
But how about a North Shore tour?
We’ve parks and larks and quaint old towns
Where the lifeguards drink ‘cause no one drowns.

Now knowing this I know you’ll visit
But I wouldn’t count on public transit
And if you can, avoid low tide
Because it smells like we all died.

Uncle David

Old men refuse to die
Holding small strips of molding,
Unfinished business.

© Jordan Krais

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