Belynda Jones

Belynda Jones

Belynda Jones

Expectations

My expectancy for passion is an unguarded grassland
shrouded in purple blushed hues
swathed in azure moons
copious binges
My expectancy for passion a cable car’s final run
an erratic bathing of earth
valiant in masquerades
voluptuous in tendency
My expectancy for passion is humble with no attempts made to possess
an unabridged dictionary
written letters ruminating on the splendor of changing seasons
and open doors
My expectancy for passion is kelly green
an impetuous flame reaching inner mazes of the mind
a stealth naval officer approaching an enemy
a pugilist’s gaze in a winning match
My expectancy for passion a diminished seventh
a serenade by an undergraduate ensemble
an aria in a silent film
a muddy blues composed on a tenement landing
My expectancy for passion is an embrace between sudden paramours
an exhale after a long pause
adjoining rhythms of an intersection
My expectancy for passion is inundated
with photographic memory chambers
My expectancy for passion a thundering brook
on the brink of decay


City Blinds

When your refusals fill me up slow
like the lows of outer borough folk
I have the landscape of Prospect close bya
pitchy stench of overdue rent
City summers to snuggle and fuss underripened
press of seedy beaches
An underground maze at my whimthe
incorrigible G
Pleasantly priced classics on 12thincurable
traffic at rush
Peppers of laughter on Houston & Allenaustere
pipes on set ’til dawn
Live lusty convenience of half open bodegas-
Shadows of grown winters in Marchyour
absence
a stone’s throw


Belynda Jones hails from Queens, New York. Her work has appeared in Visceral Brooklyn, Brooklyn Paramount and Downtown Brooklyn.