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The Poetry Of...
Kenneth P. Gurney.............................

FALL OVER MY WEIGHT OF SMILES

My love belongs to no one
for a moment hung
on the cusp of the moon.

She returns to me at perigee,
drapes her innocence
on the back of a chair before hugging.

In my thirst for her, I lick
the water from her tongue.
Our silvery, gleaming chorus

nourishes a shadow in the dark,
demands tall, blond corn in harvest,
knocks down the walls

that supported my emptiness
for years.





CARS CROSSING THE BRIDGE
(modern take on a Whitman Poem)

A line in long array
where the wind
sways the supporting cables,
their course as straight
as man can engineer.
And low, the silvery river
turns gold, then red,
as traffic loiters
before the toll.
But each drivers' face
is blank and blotted
in the glare of headlights.
And above it all,
on some girder rusted,
old glory hangs limp
and unadorned
by artificial light,
yet catches one last gleam
of the setting sun.





SWEPT ALONG

My neighbor wants some alders
planted in the alley.

So we purchase some two by fours
and six dozen chocolate bars

as we sneeze too much at the idea
of raking leaves in autumn.

The postman delivers a letter
that tells the future

without the use of a semicolon
or broiled shrimp.

Don't expect misery to solve
your premature banter problem.

Don't expect the rotting corpse
of rocky road ice cream

to ooze any less than
a tapped maple in spring.

My neighbor places
oranges in the wood chipper

for that fresh squeezed
hickory flavor juice.






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