This ear ringing.
This hand bell of God’s voice begging.
This inaction guilt—full wallet fearful.
This kaleidoscopic penny whistle metamorphosis.
This biblical interpretation schism.
This gang sign throw down.
This saltwater soaked Rembrandt oil.
This papaya skin paper flaking dander.
This pumice-stoned calcium deposit sculpture.
This storm cloud added to the smoothie.
This blue-bottle fly’s contrail dissipating against the blue sky.
This international border crossing gestalt.
This white noise tinnitus caseworker.
This body electric borrowed from Walt.
This secret hidden in my gut lining.
This fascination with church mice nibbling seeds.
This obtuse reflection through Alice’s looking glass.
This casual adultery practiced in conservative corners.
This bullying called business.
These line break interruptions.
This twenty-k masterpiece.
This brutish home run trot.
This Darwinian desire to evolve past ignorance.
This assertive woman who yins to my yang.
This observing thrashers running addiction.
This emotional sucker punch.
This stunned mouth gaping pregnant pause.
This unspeaking what should not have been said.
This fanciful history rewriting.
This clandestine transformation of slavery into servitude.
This desperate white nationalist Little Big Horn fight.
This three point shot buzzer beater.
This origami fold between her legs.
This shaped charge tweet.
This paper-cut in c-minor.
This skull in search of an honest phrenologist.
This however seeking its proper grammatical and logistical place.
This straight jacket coin purse savings plan.
This minutes-old child booking passage on Charon’s boat.
This hand ringing.
copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney
POSTSCRIPT
In one manner, a list poem can be a prayer, especially if the list is repeated over and over. Probably not this particular list poem. Is the Catholic Rosary prayer a list poem?
Also, a list can be a mnemonic device. Once you have learned the list, each line leads you into the next line.
This particular list poem is my brain proceeding forward making its own connections in a stream of consciousness manner. Imagine the wild fish you’d catch in my stream of consciousness. To remain true to the stream of consciousness, I wrote “These line break interruptions” when my thought was briefly interrupted at the cafe where I wrote this piece.
After reviewing this poem, I deduce my stream of consciousness contains a lot of rocks and rapids and falls. A Rocky Mountain variety stream of consciousness.
Love & Light
Kenneth
This is so good.
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