Kenneth P. Gurney

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Physics, Not Chemistry

In a universe made out of strings

we are all marionettes

with no idea of who maneuvers

our feet and arms

above the black velvet ceiling.

Delphi asked me to jump rope

some double dutch game

with heal slapping.

Fearlessly I joined in

but we fell into a tangle of limbs:

my right foot slow to clear

the rotating blur.

She thumped the ground

under my tall body

in a whoosh of breath,

then spread her legs

and drew me tighter to her.

During our first kiss 

I found my mind

both on her soft lips 

and wondering

what caused this 

sudden amor

after all those school years

of orbital proximity.

 

Impossible Angle

I am in the laundromat

worried about rinse cycles

and dryer sheets

and my book remains 

unopened, as the clothes

slosh around 

in some vague 

imitation of a circle

with sudsy splashes.

There is a small zoo

of stuffed animals

in the dryer

and it reminds me

of Noah’s ark

and the cataclysmic events

an old testament god

visits upon his people,

and how thousands 

of dust mites

must be clinging on

to the zoomorphic fabric

for their very lives

at this moment.

To birds, I believe,

the inventor of glass

is the devil incarnate—

which assumes

birds believe in god

and the devil—

or, maybe, in some 

Buddha-like wisdom

they understand

glass’s existence 

forms a cosmic balance

equal to the constant seed 

in the bird feeder.

Yoga

My posture was bad 

from writing poems all day

at the computer

and my back would not straighten

when I tried to sit up

or stand up

and I lay down

bent and curved

on the floor, hoping

gravity would settle

my parabola,

and slowly I inched

my way through

the jolting pain

and wished

I’d taken up yoga

at age ten.


bio:  Kenneth P. Gurney lives in Albuquerque, NM, USA.  He edits the anthology Adobe Walls.  His latest collection of poems is An Accident Practiced.  To learn more about Kenneth, visit: http://www.kpgurney.me/Poet/Welcome.html