by John McKernan

Accomplished   If I were a  Kurd   I’d be dead

If I were dead    I might be a corpse in Heaven

Hang gliding over Troy trying to forget

My earthly skeleton with its graying wisps

Its swollen ankles    Sick old buddy whose

Lapses and failures embarrass even friends

Pardon me   Would you pass me that mirror

The one with the electron microscope

Over there    Next to Constellation Orion?

Maybe I’m not even there   Maybe I’m not

Even . . . .   The blue butterflies speed by

So fast    They always make me drop

This tin bucket with one of the words in it

That I want to give to my Father    “Apologize”

Author bio:
John McKernan is now a retired comma herder  He lives – mostly – in West Virginia where he edits ABZ Press  His most recent book is a selected poems Resurrection of the Dust

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