| LATE BLOOMER |
| by Precious McKenzie |
| discovered Bob Dylan at thirty rolled along to his tinny acoustic sound (in my run down pick up truck) gained enough confidence at thirty to wear blue jeans that rode low and clung close to my white hips drank enough Jim Beam at thirty to worship a porcelain goddess till midday (and swore off the tonic for a time at least) decided to swear like a sailor at thirty in the middle of claustrophobic suburbia during broad daylight roared like a tiger at thirty and left bloody, territorial claw marks on his back wrote and read day and night at thirty to make it big (before forty) dreamt of chances missed at thirty and men not kissed at thirty spent too much time wondering the what-ifs at thirty sin, vice and lust Catholically controlled until thirty. |
Precious McKenzie teaches British literature and
writing at the University of South Florida, Tampa,
and at New College of Florida. In her leisure time
she writes children's literature, short stories, and
poetry. Bob Dylan holds a special place in her heart.
writing at the University of South Florida, Tampa,
and at New College of Florida. In her leisure time
she writes children's literature, short stories, and
poetry. Bob Dylan holds a special place in her heart.
Gemini Magazine
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