Author Information
"My Adolescent Room"
by Jeph Johnson
yesterday I hid oblivious
in youthful confines
surrounded by
my innermost convictions...
I could not rhyme outside.
headphones braced my head
like I'd fallen from a horse pre-gallop,
still gripping my pen;
a smoking, cocked 'n loaded
weapon of extremes.
my notebook teetered on my belly
while I fell asleep
to crunching spandex guitar.
the real torture of adolescence
(still hidden from friends
who learned the lessons
of liquor and lasciviousness
in tighter quarters)
was waking to the phonograph needle
echoing rhythmic dead air.
