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Jeff Kingman: California Poets Part 10, Four Poems

  • Jun 11, 2024
  • 2 min read

Jeff Kingman


April 2nd, 2026

California Poets: Part X

Jeff Kingman

Four Poems



When I Was a Version

 

I wear my feet bare

am refused admittance

 

to my hypnotism.

Time travel is

 

impossible

customs mysterious.

Children get away with

 

things, but I feel I’m

an adult, feet bleeding.

On tip-toes, he kisses

 

 

himself on each cheek

but gets a blank stare.

Two tangerines resting

 

near a black telephone—

might seem easy to parse.


 



Hot Water

 

Afraid of asking

because they might think

I’m stupid.

 

Why didn’t you do the assignment?

If you were unsure, why didn’t you ask for help?

What are we going to do about this, Jeffrey?

 

I know the answers

but I can’t help you.

I see you

trying to figure it out

but you cannot.

 

“I love teaching,” said a teacher,

“because I learn so much from my students.”


 



Teacher Said Write a Poem

 

Keep people away by

spinning in crazy circles.

 

Strangeness a two-way street

don’t wave at them.

 

Birthday, Dali/Miro book

gift from Mom.

 

Keep still and quiet.

 

A misunderstood lyric and a detailed image.

 

Draw a family with

plaid couch, a floor lamp.

 

Make the picture huge and thin

fill the inches. Mom thinks “weird.”


 



Round, Wire-rimmed Glasses

 

I wanted to have hair like John Lennon.

It must be interesting to have

a child you don’t understand. My parents

were careful about that. And their note cards

 

and furniture. To cut your child’s hair must require

a certain understanding. With our compromise

I looked strange. I trusted them implicitly

but didn’t understand the math of it.

 

When I tried to mesmerize the dinner guests

all they could do was wonder what were you

thinking. But I thought they should wonder at all

we can do. The boys at school had long hair.

 

Don’t slam the door! I traipsed the carpet,

the soles of my bare feet blackened by the pavement.

My big sister named her baby Phoenix.

But I didn’t read into that. I just enjoyed the sound of it.



Author Bio:

Jeffrey Kingman lives by the Napa River in Vallejo, California. His poetry collection, BEYOND THAT HILL I GATHER, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2021. His poetry chapbook, ON A ROAD, was published by Finishing Line Press in 2019. He is the winner of the 2018 Eyelands Book Award (Greece) for an unpublished poetry book, a finalist in the 2018 Hillary Gravendyk poetry book competition, and was long listed for the 2025 ONLY POEMS Poet of the Year Prize. He has poems published in BlazeVOX, PANK, Clackamas Literary Review, Action Spectacle, and others. Jeffrey is a copy editor at Omnidawn Publishing. He has a master’s degree in music composition.

 
 
 

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