Rudolf the Red Nosed Dreadnought

after Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer in the spirit of the holiday tune and Space Battleship Yamato

Rudolf the red nosed dreadnought
had many a very shiny nose.
And if you ever saw them
you were probably evacuating home.
You would have to go off world,
because its fire boiled seas.
If you heard Rudolf was coming
your world's leaders grew weak in their knees.

When she first set sail across the stars
the alliance came to say
"Rudolf with your nose bright red,
can you put the myths to bed?"

During the second action
the crew was a bit too green.
It was a rout and poor Rudolf
had to make a swift retreat.

The interstellar war wore on
and her name was a forgotten rose.
Back then, all of her crew wished
they were uniformed in other clothes.
Then the tides began to turn,
year after year blood flowed.
All of the while, mighty Rudolf
became to be feared and well known.

Then one nebula skirmish
turned into a final fray.
The forward warships cornered
all began for the alliance to pray.

Out of the haze came a light,
Rudolf the dreadnought in its unspeakable might,
to wipe the stars clean
with seasoned glee.

All of the other systems loved her.
For everything terrible and wonderful she would mean.
Rudolf the red nosed dreadnought
went down that day and forever more
in galactic alliance history.

Smoker 48

Single file
Down the aisle
Until you meet your match.

Years from now
Learned your how
Come home, door greet: "meow!"

Not the one
That was as fun
More like a "the key tray is for your gun

Too."  Ahem.  How was your day?
Mhm, uh-hunh, okay.
Good on you.  I am too tired to play.

Single file
Down the aisle
Until you meet your match.

"It's in your head"
Perception's bed
Moth wings on walls, pinned spread.

Where do they go
Rejects row
Moonrise fast, sun rises slow

When viewed from the bottom of a well.
Inhale fast.  Exhale.  Time bled away in spell.
Gray ruins and rune map evaporate
into the evening wind,
Where I am buried, I can never tell.

I Am Going To Die

I am certain that when I die
it will be behind the wheel.
Not because of something I did,
but something I did not feel.
A loose cotter pin, a harmonically vibrating rod.
A bearing wearing metal on metal.
A bolt sheared through in last Winter's frost.
A gear one tooth short whose odd metered song
is lost beneath the 8 cylinder chorus and
the timpani's growling at the tail.
With a thump and a clunk
the dominoes will flop,
into oncoming traffic I will go
until the first law yowls "stop!"
My eyes will burst free of their sockets.
My shoes will fly off like rockets.
Over and over, or maybe over and under,
shell, chassis, and plumbing torn in shreds.
One hundred yards up the street,
beyond the last of the glass
my hand will lay
still gripping the shift knob's steel.
Another ten beyond that,
they'll find my head
with a knowing smile:
"I knew I should have double checked that seal."