I come to
in the kitchen, leaning
against the stove,
gripping an empty bag
of Trader Joe’s white cheddar popcorn,
tasting salt but unable
to recall opening the bag
& eating its contents.

Funny how the time slips away,
sang my favorite cowpunk,
funny how I once needled
my foodie friends
when they oooed and aaahed
over some chef’s presentation:
“Hey, guys,” I’d say,
“we’re going to eat it, not

fuck it.”  You can imagine
my popularity.  How I miss
my best friend
& my other friend too.

Selected byLawrence George
Image credit: Kipras Štreimikis

I've lived in Tucson since 1953 and retired in 2008 from teaching writing at Pima Community College.

My poems have appeared in journals like Carolina Quarterly, Barrow Street, RATTLE, and New Poets of the American West. 

I'm a passionate supporter of Sky Island Alliance, a regionally-based environmental organization.

Birkenstock Blues, my eleventh poetry collection, was published in 2019 by Presa Press (Rockford, MI).

jeffersoncarterverse.com