Paul met a man
who lived in shadows.

His public interactions
mostly took place at night.

Paul noticed his words
evaporated in sunlight.

The man denied he was a vampire
in long conversations.

He worked statistics
in the basement of Wrigley Field.

He kept his special theories
to himself.

All of his analysis
was recorded in a large tome.

When Paul discovered it
he mistook it for a grimoire.

The man expected to be buried
in that book

for another few years
until retirement.

He confessed he wished
to walk the prairie grasslands

under the noon sun
and feel the sun burn his ivory skin.

copyright © 2021 Kenneth P. Gurney


While sitting
in the cafe
about nine-thirty-five,
the sun finally
cracks the storm clouds
and a spear of light
pierces the window
to glare
my glasses
to blindness
thus causing me
to turn my head
left toward
the quiet man
sitting next to me
and see him
crisp to cinders
as if he became
a crushed
charcoal briquette.

copyright © 2020 Kenneth P. Gurney