Lost Adjective

We designated twenty-four June
as Paul’s birthday
since he was never born
but sprang into existence
from the frontal lobe
of an anonymous
stroke victim
in its last act of being
in charge and in control.

An unwanted circumstance
of this creative process
is that Paul walks
with that man’s footsteps
whose sounds
are a millisecond off
Paul’s actual steps.

This discrepancy creates
a confusion bubble
around Paul when he walks.

We hold all
of our deeper conversations
while sitting
at a coffee shop table.

Normally I would
walk with someone
while discussing
deeper topics
especially among trees
on the mountain
where the dead
have little ability
to reach up from the grave
and snatch words
out of sentences
just as they leave the lips.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

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