Spinning Snake Sky to Ground

The deepest part of myself
is far shallower than the pacific ocean.

You will hear no wing flaps
because I never dream of flying.

Struggle smells like salty sweat
and sours as bacteria thrives in the wetness.

I am my own monster
hatched from horrifying childhood experiences.

My sixth sense causes me to zero in on
all the road kill along US highways.

By the time I reach the Texas border
I am melancholy.

By the time I reach the Oklahoma border
I root for every tornado.

I find solace in those things humans fail to control.
I find them irresistible.

copyright © 2022 Kenneth P. Gurney

Everyone Silent

Whatever it is that scares you
does a magnificent job of being scary
if the birds cease twittering
and insects hide their buzz
from air now bereft of the slightest breeze
because the wind is too frightened
to move.

But I know you will be out there
with your wooden sword
and a blanket substituting
for a superhero’s cape
to deal with the monster
that guiltlessly kills without remorse
or seems mostly like a great maw
that gobbles things up
leaving behind a void
as if all matter was consumed
by a black hole rolling
across the neighborhood.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Monster Inside You

The monster inside you
loves you like you loved your parents.

He grows as you grow.
Adulthood is scarier than childhood.

He adopts the disguises you wear
and paints the lies you speak in brilliant colors.

The monster inside you
suggests, One more drink for the road.

The monster inside you
dresses intolerance as patriotism.

He stops you from eating your children.
He knows caring for them troubles you far more.

He resides in that closet adjacent to anger.
He happily travels that extra mile labeled too far.

You may conjure his face if you wish.
Hold a mirror to a mirror just so.

copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney