While Wearing the Wrong Talisman

The radio turned on by itself.
It played a Cubs-Mets game from nineteen-sixty-nine.

The mirror turned black.
It chose to absorb light rather than reflect it.

My clothes rained
when I wore them outside under the sun.

Gold rings are bad in Fairy Tales
so I refused to give one to my beloved at our wedding.

A towhee perched above our sleep
caught our dreams like moths.

A flicker pecked ear-worms
out of my drummed head.

In a curiosity shop we came upon
a crucifix pencil.

To write a poem the Christ’s head bobbed
back and forth with google-eyes.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

Breakup

I know I am not blameless.
I broke most of my promises
to myself, too.

My punishment is searching for you
as dusk settles
in a Grimms’ Fairy Tale forest

I fell asleep under a tree and woke
with scales, a long tail, a smoking snout
and heartburn.

I found your footprints in the dirt.
They led into an aspen grove
and away from me.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney