Dennis Hopper Photo Over A Kiva Fireplace

Paul stays
foggy and drizzly
all day long.

Hot chocolate
does nothing
to alter his forecast.

Somewhere
far away in Europe
the hills echo

with World War II
as old ordnance
claims a milk cow.

Paul drifts up Taos’ Paseo
to prospect the sky
for three hundred thirty days

of brilliant sunshine,
magnificent sunsets
and light that entraps artists.

The purple thistles
seem out of season
but opportunistic

while climate change
performs its namesake duties
pressuring mercury.

Adobe Bar electrifies wooden music
and a spontaneous round
on Guinness pints.

The Hum contemplates
who hears it and who does not
separating the struggling Paul

for another day’s distraction
of journaling on rolling papers
and retreating into that fog.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney

Late October

I am your rainy incident
that catches you
without an umbrella
so you order a second
double espresso
and write
your autobiography
in a chicken scratch code
on a brown napkin
sending all of your emotions
out to right field
during the World Series
with the hypothesis
your emotions
had one game-saving
over-the-wall catch
left in its marrow
before a field
of thistle seedpods
burst open
like clouds
that cause delay.


copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney