Jonas Kyle-Sidell
About the Author
I was born in L.A. but am now in Decatur, GA and will
be attending the University of Baltimore in the fall
for the ubiquitous M.F.A. I'm excited to show people
my work. I have a poem in the current L.A. Review,
and forthcoming from Main Street Rag. Also, there are
three posted on Madswirl.com.
Hipster
When it bubbles up out of frenzy – as if
assured by something – that’s the best for
him. The weight that was there has given
away what it knows, and surrendered only
to what will last. After all, we're all having
a breakdown . . . ooooooh how it surprises,
when it shows its grace! Undeniably,
inexplicably, even with all that he can attest
to! But there are other witnesses who have
seen it, too. Neither tragic nor heroic – it is
honest, like the way a song speaks to you,
or how someone exists in their environment.
It’s also romantic as hell, full of love, and to
ignore that much would be a gross injustice.
Growth, blessed life, shall not go unnoticed.
Aesthetically speaking, however, it’s tough.
The past, present, and future fold into a series
of implications. That’s when he’s got to throw
it all in a crock-pot over an endearing flame,
and boil it down to a simple conception. One
which, under certain circumstances, may foil
from the pressure, but ultimately staves off
incineration! As does he.
Cocking his hat, gently now, towards the
sun, his eyelids dancin’ like one’a them kisses . . .
