My Horoscope

My horoscope told me,
Take two blue M&Ms and call me tomorrow morning.
Dark chocolate is a good start
to the ordeal of being someone’s loose ends.

My chore today is to build a temple
with ten thousand cucumbers
and baptize a prime number of sinners
that is between eleven and ninety-seven inclusive.

Start with a hole. White, not black.
To represent an inner-space location
instead of outer-space.
Somewhere particles have room to vibrate.

Maybe first, I should define sinners.
People who fail to take care of themselves.
Who fail to take their meds.
Who choose, on principle, not to eat blue M&Ms
.

I keep mine clean. My definition of blue that is.
I wish I meant Danube—an inspirational river once.
Or sky. Too many hydrocarbon emissions.
I meant no sexual connotations from the color choice.

Second, I must cut the cucumbers into Lincoln Logs
and complete the temple assembly
with the aid of a schoolroom of six year olds
complete with a tattered Winnie The Pooh & Piglet.

I see. There was no first. A mistake on my part
I readily admit to those dependent on linear thinking.
What shall we loose upon the world
from the altar of our temple?

A hundred cubic acres of blue M&Ms
are as good as clouds made of orchids,
all people possessing a witty retort to off-color remarks,
or tannin-stained rivers made of whiskey.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

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