A Place For Everything (And Everything In Its Place)


Since it’s the time of day for tidying up

she takes pains to sort each of her words

into the appropriate category:

blue, red, yellow, sweet and sour, soft

and prickly, clean, dirty or just slightly off color.

Softly evocative, thuddingly utilitarian.

Love talk, hate speech, political diatribes,

rants, raves, angry spittle-flying denunciations,

baby-voiced endearments,

all put away now, well out of sight and mind.

And so we sit and stare at each other across

the dining room table, grimacing, shrugging –

blink hard once if you want the salt,

twice for pepper.


by Jeffrey Park   



Long Flight


You just knew she’d

throw it a long, long way.

And she did.

It sailed out over the infield

further than all the others by

a full two meters

and stuck quivering

in the hard-packed sand

while the spectators clapped

and cheered and oohed

and aahed

but you could tell

really they were disheartened

by the sight of it

quivering like that in the

hard-packed sand

like a lightning rod

glaring up at a darkening sky

vibrating gently

to an approaching storm

unseen and quite



by Jeffrey Park   



The Thrill Of The New


Why don’t you sit on down

and have a cup of coconut milk?

Get comfy, roll yourself up

in my Persian rug.

Try something new

for a change, like trimming the nail

on every second toe

just to see

what it feels like. Have sex

with a stranger

and tell him afterwards that you’re an elf

and you can prove it.

Buy a pack of chewing gum

and don’t wait for your change. Drive

a slow car

real fast.

Say something snide

about the person you love

and let your eyes show that this time

you really mean it.


by Jeffrey Park   



Your Reflection, Distorted


I draw my dirty


across the surface

of the water,

see your reflection

in the broken glass,

your hand

extended toward me.

No matter

how frantically I scrape

at your image,

you continue to smile

and oppress me

with your terrifying


of spirit.


by Jeffrey Park   



Baltimore native Jeffrey Park currently lives in Munich, Germany, where he works at a private secondary school and teaches business English to adults. His latest poems have appeared in Requiem Magazine, Curio Poetry, Danse Macabre, scissors and spackle, Right Hand Pointing and elsewhere. Links to all of his work can be found at www.scribbles-and-dribbles.com.

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