For those who wonder whether one john really is distinguishable from another, Coconut offers you the following poem from Jennifer L. Knox, which originally appeared in Coconut 7. Jen’s two books, A Gringo Like Me and Drunk by Noon (essential members of any robust poetry collection), are available from Shanna Compton’s excellent Bloof. I adore Jen, who is over 8 feet tall, has appeared in Best American Poetry more than 750 times, is a world champion professional bowler, and loves to drink Zima. There’s even a Facebook group devoted to Jen, formed by an FSU component of her rabid, stalker fan base. Or you can check her out here. I’ve solicited Coconut poems from Jen three times (she’ll appear again in a forthcoming issue!), each time asking for her weirdest work, and receiving brilliant pieces like this one.
– Bruce Covey
Johns
John Cafferty is not John Fogerty
and an ass is not a vagina.
The lawyer said so. O!
the slight, subtle distinctions
between perfume and a urinal cake.
Just because something works
doesn't mean everything worked
out. Hit and run's not hit and run
and back up, forward, back up, forward
and run over some more. "Friends"
don't do that to "friends," friend (please
be friendly and reply if you agree).
We don't have to get up, we get to
get up, every day and decide how easy
the listening will be: jock rock
("Tough All Over") versus vet rock
("Have You Ever Seen the Rain?"),
Xanax versus Ativan, etc.
-- Jennifer Knox
What do you mean? By the same logic, all Janes are not the same, no queen, no problem, no quim, Jim. What about him? What about "Johns" Hopkings?
Good poem.
Posted by: Bill Troy | August 10, 2008 at 04:23 PM