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Jim Turpen  (email)


About the Poet:

Jim is from Peru, Indiana and is currently expanding his creative writing abilities at the University of Southern Indiana. This is Jim's poetic debut.





Staring at the glowing

screen the words I read

seem strange to me

beneath a flashing ad for cream

the message hits

Iím left with query


Why isnít Pluto a planet anymore?


A fact that seemed to be so

engrained is now washed

away like dust with rain

something that familiar in my mind

quickly removed without the slightest ache


If a well known fact can be reduced

can an emotion be erased when itís gone askew?


If I can detach myself from something

so         distant            and icy

Whatís to stop me from reducing the status

of the distant frigidness you have answered

my sincere admiration withÖ


I used to fear heartbreak,

                        but Pluto isnít a planet anymore





Like recent Texans or Mormons past

polygamy is disputatious

not an immoral universal fact


Spreading love like butter

over an entire loaf of wives

is a poor ethical diet

in most cultures


Ethics can be relative

and a lax attitude towards the sanctity of marriage

results in more relatives

but rarely eighty-six 


Muslims in Niger may have multiple wives

separation of Church and State

limits a man to four

Bollo had more love to spread ,

apparently, and in 84 years

collected almost as many wives


Ethics towards marriage do not reflect

ethics in love

Bollo couldnít part with any,

couldnít make one shed a tear


Instead all eighty cry

as authorities imprison

Bollo for his passionate crimes


Perhaps 170 children

can bail their father out of jail.





Decorated in a shiny tux

crowned with a haircut that replaces

your usual mop of sandy split ends

standing next to a woman who has no business

squeezing herself into a dress thatís white.


You may be the only one here who loves her,

you are not the only one her who has made love

to her.


The things she admitted

the confessions she screamed

as she squeezed the plastic, wooden headboard

as she clawed my back

ruining her freshly painted white finger nails


Twenty Minutes ago


Tonight at the reception I will make a toast

decorated with innuendos, just to boast

people will wonder why the bride blushes awkward

but only two people will understand her forced

smile. None of the guests in attendance will realize

her glassy eyes are from fear of the truth

peeking through the surface of my speech.


Only two people will know


Until you find the photos