Jon Bennett writes and plays music in San Francisco's Tenderloin neighborhood. You can find more of his work on Pandora and Spotify, or by connecting with him at www.facebook.com/jon.bennett.967. He's been published in numerous journals including Duane's PoeTree and Indiana Voice Journal.
Pops
Pops lost his strength
and he lost his mean.
Now, hands in his lap,
he waits for a blanket.
“Where you going?” he asks his boy,
now grown.
The boy/man looks
down at him
gives him the blanket
and imagines the heart transplant
misfiring in Pops’ chest.
“Fishing.”
“Where at?”
“Perch.”
Pops thinks of fish hooks
and the operating table
and his mean old hands
curled like petals
under the blanket.
“Perch,” says Pops,
“those poor, damn
little fish.”
The Recordist
The Recordist
need not speak.
If communication
is required
he’ll project the record
back at us.
But the recordist
is selective
in his playback.
Over time,
one may come to understand,
“It’s better to stay quiet
when the Recordist
is around!”
Over time
one may even become
a Recordist
oneself.
Jon Bennett
Pops lost his strength
and he lost his mean.
Now, hands in his lap,
he waits for a blanket.
“Where you going?” he asks his boy,
now grown.
The boy/man looks
down at him
gives him the blanket
and imagines the heart transplant
misfiring in Pops’ chest.
“Fishing.”
“Where at?”
“Perch.”
Pops thinks of fish hooks
and the operating table
and his mean old hands
curled like petals
under the blanket.
“Perch,” says Pops,
“those poor, damn
little fish.”
The Recordist
The Recordist
need not speak.
If communication
is required
he’ll project the record
back at us.
But the recordist
is selective
in his playback.
Over time,
one may come to understand,
“It’s better to stay quiet
when the Recordist
is around!”
Over time
one may even become
a Recordist
oneself.
Jon Bennett