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Reasons why I won't be elected president (the S's)
by Kenneth P. Gurney

falling on my shoulders
might as well be dandruff
as salty as the dead sea
and my stringy hair
might as well be kelp
storm-washed upon the shore.

there is a snowflake
exactly like the one that fell
on the Tuesday nose
of the grey-granite lion
in front of the art institute
just to show off.

Somebody took a picture of us
playing catch in the park
and turned it into a jigsaw puzzle,
but, now, a few pieces are missing
and I think you took them
to the west coast
only to find Height Ashbury
is now a subdivision
of Disney Corp.

Schnapps is something
I use to drink by the pint—
beer mugs filled to the top
with that clear, heavy liquid—
the bartender tore
fresh leaves of peppermint
and added them into the mix
for style, for an extra two-bucks,
but I liked it and paid up.

Someday, if I pretend long enough
that I am in command of my emotions,
I will be elected president of the USA
and get to decide which order
to push all the red buttons,
wondering why the radio
can't find a station that plays John Prine.

About the author:
Kenneth P. Gurney lives in Albuquerque, NM where he participates in the local poetry open mics and slams (lowest score usually). He enjoys the passion and emotion of the younger poets and the experience of years of the older poets. With an old copy of the Poets' Market as a guide, it has been a good year for his work getting published around the USA. In July 07 he started up Origami Condom which is a poetry website at

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a novel by
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