Saturday, March 5, 2011

Jeffry Jensen


I was no good with the neighborhood bears.
They always got the better of me on canned tuna day.
I was thrilled to be walking ferrets on Friday afternoons,
but once my knees gave out I had to turn in my leash.
No one told me that chamber music gives turtles hives.
They don’t take well to lotions or creams either, so I
experimented with deep neck rubs whenever I could
trick one into coming out of its shell for some quality time.
We both agreed to disagree on this one, and the turtles
took up residence in the high desert outside of LA.
I found training fish to be an acquired taste that can
go south at a moments notice if I’m not careful.
I went from a small bowl with a few lazy Goldfish
all the way up an aquarium full of Neon Tetras,
Dragon Fish, Mollys, Barbs, Pink Kissers, and Pufferfish.
Like any cruel master, I played one against the other
in order to get the best flips, gurgles, and bottom walkers.
My spare time turned into half time became full time,
took my dream time on a wild sea hunt into the deep recesses
of a freaky world few can even fathom in this century.
My act was booked on every cruise ship going up
the California coast for two years solid before
the industry tanked and I was left floundering on my own.

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