Surface Tension

Benjamin Jenkins, life, New England, New Hampshire, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Lurking wind; Port-City brick sea

Polluted by the gull scream,

Sticky gelato melt,

Salty sting of deep fryer.

Foamy Hampton Beach brine

Soaks into pores,

Protects me from the sun.

A humid one.

Amongst a throng of wandering galaxies:

Painted toes like candy;

Thonged in Birkenstock.

Salt and sand powdered thighs

Gazing through the back of hands

At the Atlantic horizon.

Fish for a smile,

Feel chest crash

At cresting wave.

Against battened down ducks

A model of Beech wood

Fair less float.


Keeping Stationery

Benjamin Jenkins, poem, poems, poetry, writing

Sit down to write poetry

Or edit a story.

Inhale breathe of hers

Absorb Ray Ban filtered sunray.

I’m worried this itchy anxiety will leave me,

As I leave the pen uncapped-

Floating upon paper’s surface tension.

Boil off thought.

Creating something bottomless

Within a two-dimensional, tree by-product;

Separates me from

Drowning in my B memories.