Blue

Bluegrass. Horse worship.
My old Kentucky home.

Blue moon. Bourbon perfectly aged.
Coal country opioid agony.

Blue bruise. Horsewhip.
Too much porn viewed out of boredom.

Blue ink. Loan application.
Fake identity running ahead of the law.

Blue mood. Memory wreck.
Gravity draws down half-broken.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

Miles & Years Away

In my mind’s night
memory fields blossom
with an abstract
of what I have lived.

How can I feel
you chew your tobacco
when you are buried
in your threadbare jeans?

Or that happy hour
when that first burn slick
of Kentucky bourbon
scarred my throat.

If I add a shot before sleep
my memory fields bloom
with father’s work
when he was a teen

clearing by hand
all the weeds from between
long green rows
of waist-high maize

with his farmer’s tan
contrasting against
his sweat soaked white t-shirt
crossed by brown suspenders.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney