Rant (13 Jun 2021)

When pharmaceutical drugs
are as easy to get as checking
a book out of the library
you know the fix is in
and the result will not be good.

Although I find hope painful
I still hope for a better outcome.

I am talking about the big picture.

The corruption of money and power
has taken hold of these United States
to disunite the population
because chaos is quite creative
while being destructive
at the same time.

There are so many ways to be angry.
And so many actions to be angry at.

The second amendment is not a solution.
Yet.

If the only thing we have to fear is fear itself
the media assembly line should halt production.

Fear is this generation’s blue light special
mass marketed on television
and available at big box stores and gun shops.

Baby boomers remain babies
stuck in me-generation mentalities
that shred the constitution
under a zero-sum game mentality
that missed the economic expansion
when women liberated themselves
into the workforce.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

postscript

remember to storm the Bastille today (however that translates into your life).

Commitment To Seeing It Through

There is an edge.
A stonewall in a meadow.
Moss covered ground stones.

The meadow is full of flowers.
Both sides just as colorful.
Just as lovely.

You are injured.
You drowse with your back against the wall.
Head bent under your broad brimmed hat.

Your gentle breath pushes the breeze.
Just as easily it takes the breeze inside you.
You are unaware of the sweat bees on your arm.

Within your sleep you feel stings.
It is not the bees.
It is the memory dream of a CSI episode.

The sun shines equally on both sides of the stonewall.
The wildflowers snuggle up against the stones.
In some places they are high enough to hide the low wall.

Your father stands on the other side.
Swallowtail butterflies decorate his bare arms.
His bare feet bear dirt from his walk to this location.

Your mother waits on this side.
She calls out to you to finish your math homework.
To come to the kitchen for milk and cookies.

Her calling wakes you.
You stand. The bees take their leave.
Your shadow casts itself across the stonewall.

Your shadow alters its angle on the other side.
Confused, you pull back from your father.
You notice the greenery grows at different angles as well.

You walk across the field toward your mother.
Not because she called you. But for yourself.
Nothing to do with television characters.

Who grow louder as you cross the meadow.
You return to the antiseptic room with white walls.
Your mother reads aloud a poem from Now We Are Six.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Uneven Undoing

A slide manufactured
from sleeping pills
midsummers the faculties
and renders permission
impossible to be granted
for the ride downward
into a legitimate oblivion
and the intimacy
of a swiveling easy chair.

The television continues
to tell the story
of an infantry lieutenant
on the back nine
of a Gulf War battle
and an extraordinary
rendition of a snowball
located in hell.

Above the television
across the antlers
of a mounted elk head
a spider strings new silk
into daily temperature readings
in a Montana gas station
where the Coke machine
is so old it charges
a nickel for a green bottle.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney