Hitchhiker Fidgets Not Allowed To Smoke

Kansas is a long flat drive,
but not as flat as Nebraska.

It is torture in a borrowed car
with a broken radio and no AC.

But it gives me the chance
to sing all the Peter Paul & Mary songs

I remember from those folky days
when I ignored the Beatles.

A study on billboard art
proved an interesting research paper

and so did the different ways
hitchhikers hold their thumbs.

You can imagine
how the engine strains

doing ninety on the interstate
elevating to the Rockies

or enjoying the gravity-payback
and extra miles per gallon

descending toward the Mississippi
and Saint Louis.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Folk Festival

A butterfly flutters
one wing jammed
under the windshield wiper,
which eventually tears
and slides its body
over the safety glass
and the car roof
to become
a blotch of color
on the black asphalt
spotted by hitchhikers
traversing the shoulder
on their way
up the mountain
to consume
various nectars
and batted eyelashes.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney