Poetry from Ken Gosse

 

Heartaches By The Numbers

 

The End of the Road

My yellow brick road was paved with her promises.

 

A Dickinson Uncouplet

A rant without slant?

Don’t tell me I can't.

 

Night Cruises

Our ships passed at night.

She would pass many others.

I only passed hers.

 

The Rehearsal

When she rehearsed our wedding night

I’m sure it whet their appetite,

helping him rise up for more—

another notch, another score.

 

The Outsider

Perhaps if they’d stopped once they kissed,

I would never have felt that I missed

the delight in her heart

which was blissed from the start

of the joy she found on their first tryst.

 

My Mourning Star

I

still

wonder

where you are,

you who made my dawn

come up like thunder, morning star.

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