Two poems by Jennefer Cole



Photos Syntheses


Order can be found here – in an open palm,

where pieces of life take the shape of reality.


There a smile lies off center, an ear sticks out,

plaited hair is windblown. I dissect anatomies


thinking something must be wrong to see only

wrong & swipe through the past till memories


dissolve to indistinct yet salvable moments – in my palm,

where I can deal the cards. The screen’s empty white


stamp fades & I can see a falcon as it comes

into focus, a palimpsest, on a window-sill throne,


layers of soft down, spindly claws, a silky black tail,

its russet feathers rustle in the wind until my clumsy


movement turns its head, owl like, from his hawk-eyed hunt.

Our eyes meet & I wonder if he sees me or only his reflection,


if he knows how with the change of a word, I have made him

real - created a he where none was before, out of the void.



Tiny Dancers


i.


It’s bikini season again

though the one piece is

trending like in ‘91 &

summer camp initiation.