No One Claimed It Was Stylish

One unguarded moment
overturned the horse drawn apple cart—
the horse, too.

From the curb, protesters threw
dripping Red Zinger teabags
as if this coordinated act could restore control.

A yellow parking ticket
fluttered against the windshield,
in that leaf-dappled light.

Some of us, here at the edge of the greenway,
aspired to become memes,
viewed by horse loving adolescent girls around the world.

I mean, I did not choose to be away from my lovely Dianne
when this self-destructive sorrow
knocked me on the skids.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

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