Flotsam

Paul wakes up
one morning
on an unfamiliar beach
with palm trees,
fiddler crabs
and a deflated
beach ball.
He rolls over
on the sand,
face up
to the sky
and asks
a hovering seagull
how his Chicago
car crash
turned into
a tropical shipwreck.
The waves
crash the shore
as the tide
turns inward
and a loud drip
as each wave
recedes into itself
drums the gulls’ calls
into mechanical
whirls and
monitoring beeps
while a shadowy
figure
places a cuff
about his arm
and pumps a ball.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney

And Counting

Off ramp.
Black ice figure eights.

Over the shoulder.
End over end.

Briefcase thrown
wide open.

Blown Papers plaster culvert.
New headlines.

One errand gives way
to another.

Rollers and sirens.
Poppy derivative oblivion.

Time lapsed.
Unconscious exit imminent.

Medical mechanics.
Beeps and bells.

Tubular lupine muttering.
Round about.

You under my eye.
Three days and counting.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney