Turns Out I Feel Sonnet

I thought that sensation had been tortured out of me.
It seems I am a small rodent with long whiskers,
living under the backdrop of a museum display
of the Omaha Beach invasion.

I always thought heaven was a painting
upon the ceiling of a Vatican chapel
and angels steal their wings from swans
before walking the runway for Victoria’s Secret.

I always thought there were stone tablets
waiting to be found on the tops of every mountain.
If the burning bush was a sign from God,
what was the fire that consumed Paradise, California?

I enjoy looking outside on cold cold days.
The frosted window obscures my vision without whiskey.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

POSTSCRIPT

I never was a large consumer of alchohol, so I managed to bypass that complication when I had my own troubles. On occasion, I do enjoy a good claret or Chartreuse on the rocks. As I age, those occasions are farther and farther apart.

When I lived in Milwaukee, WI during the 1990s, I knew many people who drank to blurriness almost every day. It was not uncommon for them to order a pitcher of beer for themselves and, if we stayed long enough at the pub, they would order a second.

My understanding is, as a whole, the people of Wisconsin are not ashamed of their drinking or their drunkenness (News Article) (2nd Link) (3rd Link). I hope this is due to season affect disorder from their six months of grey sky in winter and not from drowning emotional issues that beg to be addressed. The human condition probably pairs those two reasons.

The winter grey sky did bother me when I lived in Wisconsin and dropped my mood greatly. I do prefer my southwest location of Albuquerque, NM with its 330 sunny days per year.

2 thoughts on “Turns Out I Feel Sonnet

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