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Three Poems
by Kenneth Gurney

A Woman Steps

A woman steps
outsider herself,
blossoms into
a hand full of violets.

Her lover desires
his way to become
brown earth,
returns her
to her roots
in the wild meadow,

believes the adjoining
song birds and bees
call the rain
for their relief.

The boy at the bar

The boy at the bar
sits silent, stares
at the beer foam
in his pint,

violates auras,
sponges energy,
drains souls, attempts
to satiate his needs
without a word.

His floral shirt
fools those
carrying crosses
for wooden stakes.

The girl, shooting pool,
plans to forfeit her virtue
in an effort to reignite
a fire and stop her heart
from faltering.

Neither one has reached
bottom or deeper
than the muted cries
of hungry coyotes.

Near bartime, lingering
due to small failures,
defects unnoticed by others,
they may discover
the scent of unmet desire,
with some forfeiture
of walls and stones
that block the nose,
the mouth.

Her hips will strike
like a holy storm.

His dry, brittle being
will smoke and burst
like tinder receiving

Lisa, Wednesday Morning

I cover my ears
so not to hear
the rain fall

close my eyes
so not to see
the initiation
of oceans.

My grassless yard
is now mud
and a large puddle.

The concrete walkway

I want to slide
into second base
and win the game,
even though
there is no game.

I want to stand
barefoot, cool
my feet
with mud
and water,

feel the ruin
of my perfect

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Midnight Picnic
a novel by
Nick Antosca


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