Three Line Lunch: Two Rides at Disneyland Courthouse

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 136 Two Rides at Disneyland Courthouse We’re lined up against the dirty cream stuccoed wall as if awaiting a firing squad In the security line that snakes around outside the downtown LA courthouse. I could’ve ridden two rides at Disneyland by the time I make it...

Three Line Lunch: Messy Affairs

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 135 Messy Affairs Over twenty-three days I’ve posted six poems, drafted and noted Several more. Today I stitch it all together, fill in back-dated the online blanks Of my own life and delinquent art. Poetry and life can be messy...

Three Line Lunch: Griffith Park Assignation

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 134 Griffith Park Assignation She reads sexy Lost Girls at Skylight Books before we leave for movie. I detour into Griffith Park past Authorized Personnel Only sign. Fold seats down and under blanket I answer her pressing need oh yes I...

Three Line Lunch: Something Has Opened

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 133 Something Has Opened Something has opened something has risen something has fallen away. We talk and we hold, we talk and we sit, we talk and we touch and we kiss. And somehow we’re man and we’re woman and inside and outside we’re...

Three Line Lunch: New Year’s Eve Comes Early

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 132 New Year’s Eve Comes Early New Year’s Eve begins early and could end right there and I’d be fine Because my love is quite loving when I get home. So when the champagne cork pops this midnight it’s merely an after-thought to...

Three Line Lunch: Full Blue Lunar Eclipse

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 131 Full Blue Lunar Eclipse This New Year’s Eve Karin says the full blue lunar eclipse riding tonight’s sky means “let go” and Elise Takes up the chant, so we’ll tumble over hand-in-hand, trying to travel light in spirit, Into this new year that threatens such great grief but holds out such great...

Three Line Lunch: The Softness and the Melting Fire

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 130 The Softness and the Melting Fire My wife was beautiful at dinner and when I park in the dark I do not get out but as if on first date I kiss with senses tuned high And exquisite the softness and the melting...

Three Line Lunch: Triangulation

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 129 Triangulation Yes we see counselor and she is devious and honest and good. We triangulate: a chair, a loveseat, a couch. I boil and recoil. But truths get bandied about and lessons extracted and we write her a...

Three Line Lunch: Where Love Rushes In

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 128 Where Love Rushes In We are standing and we are grieving and I hold her. Hands comfort Hands touch hands move and under hands are familiar contours grown new. Shared hurt builds heat and opens places inside where love rushes...

Three Line Lunch: The Un-guessed

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 127 The Un-guessed When now becomes vividly present the universe changes its shape And I churn in this flow of time, it moves now swift now slow but only in one Relentless direction: out from my discovered sin and toward the...

Three Line Lunch: Christmas With Genevieve and Jackson

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 126 Christmas With Genevieve and Jackson My aim this Christmas: stake my claim on the hearts of my niece and nephew. Four years ago baby Genevieve laughed on my knee. Two years ago I only scared them. Tonight Genevieve comes down before bed and runs to me for a goodnight...

Three Line Lunch: Scotch and Cupcakes This Christmas Eve

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 125 Scotch and Cupcakes This Christmas Eve Beef tenderloin in Dad’s brown sauce. Kid-decorated cupcakes left out for Santa. For father and son left alone at last past midnight talk is love. It flows more freely even Than scotch and beer. On our way to bed Santa leaves only the cupcake...

Three Line Lunch: Dinner at the Seabrook Club

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 124 Dinner at the Seabrook Club Our family ten strong, woven together by choice and blood, through divorce, remarriage And new generations arriving, dine at long table. “It’s good to be all together,” says Dad. “Growing up in conflict and struggle I didn’t have this.” We toast what we all have...

Three Line Lunch: Sea Things

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 123 Sea Things Walking the broad beach, John’s Island, SC, hunting for sea things: Tiny linked translucent white shells like fairy wings, fuzzy antler sea plants, Intact sand dollar, clumped carbuncled shells, thin waves tickling the...

Three Line Lunch: The Great Blue Heron

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 122 The Great Blue Heron On walk by lake back from gym we see him: great blue heron crouched on bank Head cocked back on long neck. He shoots forward, wings spread, beak stabs water. He strokes great wings and rises from lake with a fish draped out of his...

Three Line Lunch: The Tickle Game

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 121 The Tickle Game Uncle Jeff: “Are you ticklish?” Genevieve shyly: “Yes.” “Do you like to be tickled?” Smiling: “Yes.” So I have my in. We invent the tickle game. I’m on rug in hallway; She and Jackson run by, I snag them, tickle waists and armpits to great glorious...

Three Line Lunch: Travel Day

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 120 Travel Day On Sunday we rise in the dark to travel. Over Houston I see the blue gulf curve. From Charleston airport my dad drives us under trees hung with Spanish moss To the island townhouse overlooking salt marsh, and here we will have our...

Three Line Lunch: Mindfulness: What a Good Idea

  a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 119 Mindfulness: What a Good Idea The book: Miracle of Mindfulness. The goal: read it at the park with the dogs. But we get to the park: no book. I find it later, driving home, Flapping tattered in the street: I left it on the roof of the car and drove away....

Three Line Lunch: After Party Anthropologist

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 118 After Party Anthropologist At the after party it’s best to turn anthropologist, sociologist, sit back and watch The dance floor assertions and attempted mergers, the confidences whispered On the smokers’ patio, the pairs who slip out early, the thirsty souls who hang on...

Three Line Lunch: Holiday Staff Party Politics

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 117 Holiday Staff Party Politics She rises to announce the annual recognition award. It will not go to me. But a chant goes up from one table: “Jeff! Jeff! Jeff!” A voice calls: “Where’s Jeff?” I thrust up my hand to silence them. I didn’t ask for this. But I appreciate...

Three Line Lunch: Red at the Vet #3

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 116 Red at the Vet #3: Nailed to a Prognosis X-rays show Red’s tumors have grown, with new liver node. Vet ducks prognosis. “We’re leaving town for a week,” I say. “I need to know if he’ll be here when I get back.” She says her gut tells her two months, but with cancer it could turn any...

Three Line Lunch: Red at the Vet #2

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 115 Red at the Vet #2: Red Loves the Vet Red is that rare dog who loves the vet’s office. It’s just another place where People are nice to him: the vets, the techs, people and dogs in the waiting room. He goes each to each, drops his head, smiles and gives his tail a little...

Three Line Lunch: Red at the Vet #1

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 114 Red at the Vet #1: Emergency Appointment Red’s been living well with cancer. But last couple weeks he can’t get Comfortable at night. He’s lost weight. This morning: sharp breaths, pain. I leave work to carry him downstairs to car for emergency vet...

Three Line Lunch: Rain Magic

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 113 Rain Magic Magic, walking to the car with Elise late, down middle of narrow wet street; Thin spears of rain slant down through the soft umbrella of streetlight, Puddles glisten on the blacktop, smells of wet leaves and...

Three Line Lunch: B-Day Lunch With Chuck for Jason

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 112 B-Day Lunch With Chuck for Jason Jason calls the shots for his b-day lunch: Dong Il Jang in Koreatown. Banchan dishes All over table: Korean pickles in chili and vinegar. Beef barbecued on the table before us, Eaten with onion and oil, then rice fried and spiced in same pan. Buzzing on good...

Three Line Lunch: Late B-Day With My Lunch Crew

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 111 Late B-Day With My Lunch Crew Nicely spiced flatbreads, shawarma, kebabs, amid groups of office holiday lunchers — More diverse than organic friends. “Same for us,” says Jenny: Mexican, Chinese, Armenian and WASP. “This is three-line worthy,” says Saira. “Guaranteed,” says...

Three Line Lunch: Reading is Sexy

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 110 Reading is Sexy Saw a bumper sticker I liked last week: Reading is Sexy. And don’t you look sexy right this very...

Three Line Lunch: Muses

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 109 Muses You take your muses where you can find them. Your wife. Your dog. A flower. A friend. The sound of a car rounding a corner, gathering speed, When you’re up late at night, alone, in the dark: a rumble shaking the...

Three Line Lunch: LA Cold Snap

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 108 LA Cold Snap I the Michigander who loves cold bundled up greedily in bed last night. This morning my Weather Channel iPhone app warns of black snow in the desert And “Frost on the windshield” comes my wife’s text as she leaves for school in the...

Three Line Lunch: Weather Vane in a Hurricane

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 108 Weather Vane in a Hurricane Anything outside that can give you confidence can take it away: black espresso, Beers, something in a little smoke, a beautiful smile turned your way, a rave review. Grow your own within or you will slam around like a weather vane in a...

Three Day Lunch: Birthday Weekend Saturday

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 107 Birthday Weekend Saturday Figaro French cafe breakfast, latte bowl, rich omelette. Then loft friends downtown Writer and animator over English pub pints. Glendale for annual December birthday boys Dinner with our wives and wine and books before late night vaporizor. Lights out...

Three Line Lunch: Birthday Weekend Friday

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 106 Birthday Weekend Friday Strong coffee slow vacation morn, then the ocean blue on drive to Malibu For long wine lunch easy talk old friends. Then sun falling toward ocean blue I drive Topanga valley to Hollywood for new friends tequila happy hour comedy...

Three Line Lunch: Anatomy Lesson

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 105 Anatomy Lesson Elise, studying for massage therapy test over turkey dinner at Astro diner, Shows me all the little red muscles interlaced between the vertebrae along the spine And remarks, “We’re really just a pile of sticks and rubber...

Three Line Lunch: The Orange

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 104 The Orange Saira running late to join Aram & I for lunch, through text msgs & courses– Entrees, cheese & crackers, apples & oranges. We leave her one round orange On a round paper plate at center of round table. Final txt: “Lovely. Thank...

Three Line Lunch: Saving the Centipede

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 103 Saving the Centipede Instinctive repugnance. The centipede with all its legs swimming Against slick aluminum, scrambles up side of sink, slips back, struggles, slips. I chase it round sink with a jar, scoop it up, carry it out to the...

Three Line Lunch: As I Pour

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 102 As I Pour I hold the steel bottle in my hand as I pour The ice water. I feel the cold climbing From the base of my palm up to my...

Three Line Lunch: Evening With Elise

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 101 Evening With Elise Evening with Elise In our new sitting area, newly upholstered mid-century chairs, Gaming together quietly on our...

Three Line Lunch: Even While I Meditate

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 100 Even While I Meditate Even while I meditate, eyes lidded but not closed, Red in soft focus paces in front of me, Then lies down at my feet, chin on...

Three Line Lunch: And the Loving Turns Fierce

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 99 And the Loving Turns Fierce Cold night patio, absinthe before the flames curling over the glowing wood In the clay chimenea, and the loving turns fierce Before we take it...

Three Line Lunch: Thanksgiving Buffet

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 98 Thanksgiving Buffet with Kimberley and Ed at Castaways From high above on a warm night, at a patio table well-appointed With feast foods, good friends and easy jokes, even Burbank Its lights spread out below and ringed with dark mountains, can be...

Three Line Lunch: Happy Thanksiversary

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 97 Happy Thanksiversary Champagne in glowing flutes with OJ, strong coffee, warm croissants, little dishes Of butter, jams and feta, loving cards in bed this morning because Five years ago this date we were married on the day after...

Three Line Lunch: Morning on My Top Step

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 96 Morning on My Top Step, Petting a Cat, Looking Out Young white woman in full stride with two dogs on short leash, no sniffing allowed. Older Latino couple out health-walking, she in pink terry-cloth hoody, he plodding behind. First of the parade of mothers walking children to Aragon elementary...

Three Line Lunch: Fall Leaves

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 95 Fall Leaves Thich Nhat Hanh’s mindfulness meditation CD plays in my car as I drive to Piper Tech. Walking through the City of LA print shop I see stacks of glossy brochures and postcards Like piles of colorful fall...

Three Line Lunch: I Stop for its Music

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 94 I Stop for its Music Jenny supervises me sorting my books: two seconds to sort into Bye-Bye, Keep, Or Don’t Know. We hear Elise from the other room laughing on the phone. “She has a beautiful laugh,” says Jenny. I stop for its music. “She sure...

Hippie Squared: Family Thanksgiving with Friends

Thanksgiving is by tradition spent with family. But in a place like Los Angeles, particularly, many of us are far from our families, but among friends who become our local families. I’ve been in Los Angeles a long time, and while I’ve often gone back to Michigan for Christmas, I’ve only rarely gone back for Thanksgiving. For a few years there a group of friends from Michigan who had all moved out here would gather for Thanksgiving, and that was nice. As I became more entwined in a new life here, though, I began to develop of group of local friends with whom I had more in common at that time: artists, poets, writers. They reflected what I was becoming, not where I had come from. Getting a new group of friends can be hard. One can become divided. Sometimes you grow into a new group of friends, but you rarely, truly outgrow the old—certainly not if there was any depth to those original friendships. If you can gradually meld the two groups that helps. Invite them all to parties consistently and eventually they’ll inter-mingle and they will probably blend well over time. Anyway, the new group of friends was originally centered around Lani and Steve, Shelley, Harold, Rolly, Kimberley, and Barbara Romain and Chris Peditto. Over the years I’ve spent many a Thanksgiving with those people and others in that circle in various combinations. But I courted that group of friends for some time before I truly felt like I belonged. Barbara is an artist, and she and Chris in particular are close to my wife Elise and I now. Not long ago Elise and I were at Barbara and Chris’s house. She rotates her paintings on the walls, new ones, old ones,...

Three Line Lunch: Tale of Two Birthdays

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 93 Tale of Two Birthdays For Cappell it’s a surprise Lebowski party. I wear my Lebowski-Fest bowling shirt. For Michael it’s a part the Gaza/Manning loft downtown, spacious And partitioned with bookshelves gloriously stocked. Nice people...

Three Line Lunch: Pushy Asshole

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 92 Pushy Asshole Light turns I’m stuck in intersection. I squeeze in to right of car ahead. In her bubble she rages. “Roll it down,” I mouth. “You can’t cut!” she yells. I try to explain that I wasn’t. She: “I’m not listening, you pushy...

Three Line Lunch: One of Those Days

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 91 One of Those Days no whining. i’ll find my ground and stand it, with those who have my back. i live only so much of my life in public verse, so i’ll say no more but this: anyone who knows offices knows office...

Three Line Lunch: What We Take In

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 90 What We Take In Second day on the Dr. Schultze bowel cleanse, my second one this year, And thinking about what we take in. It’s vegan and no caffeine for a week, But full of energy. Cheated with a cheese enchilada and got a...

Three Line Lunch: Digging a Cat Grave

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 89 Digging a Cat Grave The dead smell came up through the floorboards last night. This morning, I crawled under the house, flashlight in teeth, found her, the neighborhood matriarch. I dug a good grave where the earth was soft. We marked it with big...

Three Line Lunch: Bad Groove

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 88 Bad Groove Sometimes you get stuck in a bad groove. Buzzing, popping, clicking, scratching. Repeating. So do you shoot an elbow into the turntable Or do you lift the arm gently and try to find the next...

Three Line Lunch: Where the Wilds Things Are Movie

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 87 Where the Wild Things Are Movie Sometimes we act stupid and we mess things up. Sometimes we try to act smart and we mess things up. Sometimes we have to howl it all out before we can smile...

Three Line Lunch: Full Weekend

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 86 Full Weekend Folk rock and chili dogs with Jason Friday night. Saturday van trip north For subservise union gathering. Sunday brunch with Melanie then tonight it’s Elliott Levin & Don Preston: wild improv jazz at the Tribal...

Three Line Lunch: Elevator Repair

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 85 Elevator Repair “How’s your day?” Kari asks at the elevator, just after Clark has stalked in wielding clenched teeth and deadlines. “It just took a serious turn for the annoying,” I say, and we...

Three Line Lunch: :)

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 84 :) How pretty she smiles Walking into the restaurant Looking down at the text message nestled in her...

Three Line Lunch: Sequence

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 83 Sequence Life’s a series of moments that seem to be over as soon as they begin. I push my fingers into your hair and sweep it behind your ear. I’ve clocked this poem at less than twenty seconds to...

Three Line Lunch: All Asleep and All Good

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 82 All Asleep and All Good Elise lies on the couch propped on pillows, TV for a lullaby; Her cheek cradled in her palm, lower lip drooping, and She is again a sweet little girl, pretty child, all asleep and all...

Three Line Lunch: The Mission of San Juan Capistrano Ruins

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 81 With Elise and Michele at the Mission of San Juan Capistrano Ruins People heaved these rocks up for walls before they tumbled down. People lie under the grass in this cemetery. People walked these cold Stone floors and in this courtyard they gathered the sun into their...

Three Line Lunch: Committed to Fun

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 80 Committed to Fun Seeing Leon Russell at the Coach House, at long communal table. Old George Sits nearby, missing girlfriend Dee. They live two hours apart, but are bound By legal commitment to stay together for as long as they keep having...

Three Line Lunch: In the Rearview Mirror on Highway 5 South

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 79 In the Rearview Mirror on Highway 5 South She’s passenger. He’s driving. Her face is angry and she speaks quickly. She leans away from him. He leans toward...

Three Line Lunch: R Crumb’s Genesis at Armand Hammer Museum

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 78 R. Crumb’s Genesis at Armand Hammer Museum Images and episodes linger. Crumb’s expressive faces. Isaac and Rebekah Lying together in innocent loving human nakedness. Abraham pimping His wife to two separate rulers for riches. God’s breath on the whirling...

Three Line Lunch: The Young Cats

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 77 The Young Cats It’s the young cats who are curious about the bath. They bat The plastic curtain aside, curl little paws over the porcelain, perch on the rim And peer bravely into the water, paw at the toes resting near the...

Three Line Lunch: The Virus Paws at My Gate

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 76 The Virus Paws at My Gate Hate being sick. But the virus paws at my gate. I take measures. Stay home. Rest. Thai massage, hot Thai curry, cold Thai beer. Lovecraft & zazen. Netty pot. Reading Chopra in a long hot bath. Methods both conventional & un. I...

Three Line Lunch: To Eat and Sleep is Almost All

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 75 To Eat and Sleep is Almost All The animals that humans have domesticated as pets Are as bound to ritual as we are. Our cats each have their place To eat, the dogs each have theirs, each has their sleeping...

Three Line Lunch: Wisdom?

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 74 Wisdom? I believe in my bones That every statement is false. Can it be as I believe that every question is the...

Three Line Lunch: Sunday Evening Precinct Walk

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 73 Sunday Evening Precinct Walk, Pico Rivera, California We walk the streets with Scottish names: Loch Alene, Eglise, Kilgarry. But from nearly every door that opens to my knock the rich scent Of cooking frijoles wafts out until it follows me from house to...

Three Line Lunch: Restless Spirits at the Halloween Party

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 72 Restless Spirits at the Halloween Party Purple spider lights her web. Skeleton bursts from his grave skull ablinking. A ghost glows above the patio. The living arrive in camouflage to carve The sacred gourd and appease the spirits of the dead with nightlong...

Three Line Lunch: The Eve of All Hallows Eve

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 71 The Eve of All Hallows Eve The mad scramble before the storage unit closes to extract Halloween. Thinking how despite ourselves we hurt the ones we love. But tomorrow we’ll string webs and plant ghosts and party and have...

Three Line Lunch: Halloween Parking Garage Bathroom

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 70 Halloween Parking Garage Bathroom In the bathroom of the parking garage beneath the haunted house I find Tell-tale signs: bloody footprints. And resting on the back of the toilet: Two tubes of white make-up and a tall plastic bottle of...

Three Line Lunch: Equal Time for Elise (My Poetic License Suspended?)

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 69 Equal Time for Elise (My Poetic License Suspended?) “That wasn’t even a poem, it was more like an attack.” Elise has given me License to write about our fights. “But at least be fair. You made me sound crazy When all I asked you to do was hose down the patio.” Fair & balanced...

Three Line Lunch: What’s the New Crazy?

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 68 What’s the New Crazy? Only a few years ago You could assume a person was crazy If you saw them walking down the street talking to...

Three Line Lunch: Me and You

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 67 Me and You I like the me that I am with you When I’m with the you That likes me.

Three Line Lunch: The Intimacy of Silence

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 66 The Intimacy of Silence Two men painting a room. One swears. One talks to himself. A man and a woman reading together, breathing, sniffing, coughing. Without noise or chatter for cover, how nakedly together we can...

Three Line Lunch: The Beauty of Objects in Motion

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 65 The Beauty of Objects in Motion The beauty of objects in motion. As simple as a laden paint-roller rolling down a wall. Cause and effect writ...

Three Line Lunch: A Different Current

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 64 A Different Current Time rushes and in the midst of it do you ever wish you could throw Your hand back and grab the outcropping of some past moment, Steady yourself, catch a breath, then launch out into a different...

Three Line Lunch: Task List Ambush

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 63 Task List Ambush They both do it, Elise and her brother–they frantically clean the house And drive their spouse crazy, in preparation for the other’s visit. Reading the newspaper this morning I’m ambushed with a long task...

Three Line Lunch: Phone Bank in a Pico Rivera Garage

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 62 Phone Bank in a Pico Rivera Garage The dad plants skeleton arms in the front lawn, while back in garage, flanked by a grill And tools hanging on hooks, a shopping cart stuffed with old clothes, pizza and wings Getting cold in night air, city workers on cell phones call local voters to pitch their...

Three Line Lunch: Happy Birthday Dad

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 61 Happy Birthday Dad Dad turned seventy yesterday, home from the hospital, on the mend. Good strawberries for his breakfast and appetite returning. Looked out From back porch at South Carolina island marsh, high...

Three Line Lunch: Hippie Was Not Their Word (Bivins Reminisces)

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 60 Hippie Was Not Their Word (Bivins Reminisces) The denizens of the Haight called themselves freaks. “If someone came around talking about hippies, We all just thought, show us your fucking badge, you...

Three Line Lunch: Visiting the Great Poet in Community Hospital

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 59 Visiting the Great Poet in Community Hospital Known as “Little Sunshine Dada” in his Haight Street glory days, Bivins, Diabetic, brought in by ambulance for flu, is lucky: they discovered mass In colon while operable. “The doctors here are straight talkers. I like...

Three Line Lunch: Sunday’s Loose Ends

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 58 Sunday’s Loose Ends So Dad is home from the hospital in Charleston, watching football And reading while he tries to beat pneumonia. I’m writing a poem Before we scrub walls and floor of back room to prep for...

Three Line Lunch: Party Conversation Overheard

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 57 Party Conversation Overheard “I’m telling you, man, he’s a full-on hermaphrodite. All the parts of both sexes. He’s got a fully functioning uterus. He has periods, even. He and his wife are...

Three Line Lunch: Red Waits Late

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 56 Red Waits Late Some nights Elise and the dogs are in bed when I get home. Still Red Nearly blind and mostly deaf now, comes when I turn on the kitchen light Hobbling out to greet me, head down for petting, old tail genly...

Three Line Lunch: Dream Catalog #3

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 55 Dream Catalog #3: Improv Benefit for Nuclear Disarmament Me and the other improv-ers gather backstage with Robin Williams. “Least it’s not a real nuclear war,” someone jokes. I say, “If it was A real nuclear war, all the jokes would be funnier.” Robin...

Three Line Lunch: Rainy LA Morning

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 54 Rainy LA Morning Cozy dark living room on couch with coffee, dogs, and cats, looking out, Listening. Gray sky through wet leaves out top pane above curtains. Sound of spinning car tires throwing off water on wet blacktop...

Three Line Lunch: Lingering News on a Three-Day Weekend

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 53 Lingering News on a Three-Day Weekend In the background of this three-day weekend of delicious abandon, My own work, and precious rest, lingers always knowledge of my dad In the hospital in Charleston with...

Three Line Lunch: Old Hollywood New

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 52 Old Hollywood New In my old Hollywood neighborhood for a movie tonight at Egyptian Theater. New buildings. Old buildings made new. Chaotic light radiates off towering signs. Homeless scoot on wheelchairs growling; tourists in t-shirts stroll...

Three Line Lunch: Eye to Eye With My Species

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 51 (Sunday October 11) Eye to Eye With My Species To really look into a pair of eyes. Which is to study a face and be studied. Which is To see and say things it might take many many words to find Cannot be said with words at...

Three Line Lunch: The Obama-Lennon Peace Prize

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 51 (Saturday October 10) The Obama-Lennon Peace Prize It clearly didn’t take, but after he died some tried to make Lennon’s birthday An International Day of Peace. This year John met Barack across decades When they gave Obama the Peace Prize on Lennon’s birthday, October...

Three Line Lunch: Spontaneous Lunch

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 50 Spontaneous Lunch  Brought lunch but not feeling it, so I text Elise, up the road At massage school. She picks me up for sushi. In the crosswalk I wrap my arm around her and squeeze her...

Three Line Lunch: Dream Catalog #2

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 49 Dream Catalog #2 “Come quick!” Elise yells from bed, “The virus is moving!” Virus? I run in, See something small round and brown hop over a bedspread wrinkle. I lean in, it jumps — soft and flat hits the base of my throat, slips down inside my...

Three Line Lunch: Adventure Lunch

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 48 Adventure Lunch Jenny and Aram school me on Korean, just a few doors down from office. Pickled zucchinis green-skinned swim in hot red paste. Mountain rice salad: Fried egg breaks yellow into rice, lettuce and shredded carrots....

Three Line Lunch: A Writer’s Alchemy

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 47 A Writer’s Alchemy Writing about my life every day Makes me like it more. I think what we attend to faithfully we must somehow...

Three Line Lunch: A New Tradition (Me Make Fire)

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 46 A New Tradition (Me Make Fire) Looks like we have a new Sunday evening tradition: Elise bought Special grill-packs of veggies and swordfish steaks, then joked with Her schoolmates about me grilling, growling, “Me man, me make...

Three Line Lunch: Elise and the Triathloners

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 46 Elise and the Triathloners Sunday morning 4am alarm—so Elise can massage triathloners at finish line downtown. In the dark we set up her table under tents in vast Nokia Live Theater courtyard, across From the Magic Johnson statue. I love even small experiences I’ve never had...

Three Line Lunch: Up Early Again

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 45 Up Early Again Saturday morning 6:30 am alarm. Staffing a union meeting. Sky gray, But as I drive the light yawns and stretches a gradual blue into the sky. What Los Angeles looks like with no traffic, streets wide clear and...

Three Line Lunch: Up Late Again

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 44 Up Late Again Up late again, drafting e-mails for my union work, eyes grainy and sore. Though tired I’m reminded how lucky I am to do work That thrills me, that I believe in, that lets me stretch and tone my...

Three Line Lunch: And the Smoothie Goes Down Smooth

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 43 And the Smoothie Goes Down Smooth These organic raspberries glow pink from the inside. I always feel a little bad scalping a strawberry. But soy milk, oj, ice, and blend: And the smoothie goes down...

Three Line Lunch: Shedding Moss

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 42 Shedding Moss They say, “A rolling stone gathers no moss.” It sheds moss. I am a stone. I roll uphill, Shedding...

Three Line Lunch: The Improvisational Universe

a yearlong diary in three-line poems by Jeff Rogers, day 41 The Improvisational Universe If it’s true as in esoteric physics that all probabilities exist as waves Only fixed as particles when we observe them, then this whole universe Is one collective improvisation: we’re all just making it up as we go...