Nose in a book, my book resting beside me in the grass.
The wind kicking in gusts. Each sentence read blown
my eyes on the whale clouds mingling with
galactic cruisers and shuttles in the busy sky.
Hear the jingle of car keys and grounded
for a moment; a woman with a silver and blue stroller
and pup in tow answers her cellular phone.
"Let's go out." Watch your earring shift
in the breeze and hear the miniature wind chime sound.
Glance. Twinkle. Shiny. "What's up?"
"Nothing. It is a very nice day out is all."
"Oh. Okay. Let me know if it's too cold."
Turn the pages face up. Find my place ten pages backward
and continue. The wind whistles through a tree
ten yards away, circles back and nudges a curl of hair
from your eyebrow to rest against the crest of your ear.
My book rests beside me in the cut grass.
original works of parts
Nerd Out
I'm gon' name my first car, '96 Camry, a bitch.
Like Kup, always negative, dragging a switch
Second car, all iron sided, jumping curbs like you rich.
If you ever get the urge, talk you off that quick.
Two moves ahead. On the motorway
iron hide don't budge, come take a lick.
Mobile armor, cous'. Bring everyone.
Big O knock you down so fast you wish your henching never was.
Lasers and tech, go 'head and bring your mech.
Countered with a ninja style while my machine
gets busy on its own.
Two heads are better than one
unless you want Gerbera Tetra, son.
Armor joins mech, one pilot one tech
fall.
Hit hit hit.
Vaprized. Prophet 6, the orbital gun
shuffling it's way through the Oort
while we had it out.
The Ace of spades. Two moves ahead
sometimes has to be measured in
chunky fractions of light years.
A recurring dream about flash boiling
my left arm. The nerves being so sharply severed.
There is no pain.
Unicron had no second thoughts. Why should I?
An omen dream? If I had a bushy tail,
a full and absolutely perky
permanently fluffy bushy tail,
no matter how I tried to lick it flat,
I would love it and rest my cheek on it every day.
Every night, when pizza stops fueling us
and we have to think about the rush
of tomorrow's onslaught,
remember battles taken and the road to infinity
when ninjas fought.
If 30,000 descend, you have to live until
29,999 are slain.
Have to save the last 'til the boss is fit to trot.
Repeated save points.
Re-lit joints.
It's going to be a candle lit,
32 bit, night.
Keep your poise, hold down the noise,
I will be damned if you believe
Asteroids will beat me in 2-D!
A new high score!
A new high score!
A new Tokyo,
envisioned through a lens,
Sixth impact,
technicolor weapon and war paint:
TwentysixteenA.E.
Like Kup, always negative, dragging a switch
Second car, all iron sided, jumping curbs like you rich.
If you ever get the urge, talk you off that quick.
Two moves ahead. On the motorway
iron hide don't budge, come take a lick.
Mobile armor, cous'. Bring everyone.
Big O knock you down so fast you wish your henching never was.
Lasers and tech, go 'head and bring your mech.
Countered with a ninja style while my machine
gets busy on its own.
Two heads are better than one
unless you want Gerbera Tetra, son.
Armor joins mech, one pilot one tech
fall.
Hit hit hit.
Vaprized. Prophet 6, the orbital gun
shuffling it's way through the Oort
while we had it out.
The Ace of spades. Two moves ahead
sometimes has to be measured in
chunky fractions of light years.
A recurring dream about flash boiling
my left arm. The nerves being so sharply severed.
There is no pain.
Unicron had no second thoughts. Why should I?
An omen dream? If I had a bushy tail,
a full and absolutely perky
permanently fluffy bushy tail,
no matter how I tried to lick it flat,
I would love it and rest my cheek on it every day.
Every night, when pizza stops fueling us
and we have to think about the rush
of tomorrow's onslaught,
remember battles taken and the road to infinity
when ninjas fought.
If 30,000 descend, you have to live until
29,999 are slain.
Have to save the last 'til the boss is fit to trot.
Repeated save points.
Re-lit joints.
It's going to be a candle lit,
32 bit, night.
Keep your poise, hold down the noise,
I will be damned if you believe
Asteroids will beat me in 2-D!
A new high score!
A new high score!
A new Tokyo,
envisioned through a lens,
Sixth impact,
technicolor weapon and war paint:
TwentysixteenA.E.
I Get Dog, Folk
"Go for a walk. Go for a walk?"
Refreshing internet browsers.
Double checking status
on progress bars.
"You want to go for a walk?"
Everything will fall like dominoes
before the hypersonic bubble
of a thermonuclear device.
"A new world order will be enacted!"
Go for a walk. Go for a walk?
"Yes, dear Lord, yes!"
The scarecrow post man,
do not blink. It moves!
A life its own. Do not blink.
I don't like change.
Time is heartless.
The gods, too.
Refreshing internet browsers.
Double checking status
on progress bars.
"You want to go for a walk?"
Everything will fall like dominoes
before the hypersonic bubble
of a thermonuclear device.
"A new world order will be enacted!"
Go for a walk. Go for a walk?
"Yes, dear Lord, yes!"
The scarecrow post man,
do not blink. It moves!
A life its own. Do not blink.
I don't like change.
Time is heartless.
The gods, too.
River Stroll With a Backpack Full of Groceries Before Home
Where are the ice floes? The rainbow
beneath the river film is tinted. Rocks
along the shore frosted with days ago snow.
Snap photographs into the deep pea.
Wonder if the fish are as confused as
stomach rumbles and days sleeping less.
Do they wonder where lures are?
Never. Tiny brains turned eyes to
horizon clouds are burst to haze and
rain that never kisses. Low pressure
coming. Get home. The concert is
starting. The fish will be listening too.
beneath the river film is tinted. Rocks
along the shore frosted with days ago snow.
Snap photographs into the deep pea.
Wonder if the fish are as confused as
stomach rumbles and days sleeping less.
Do they wonder where lures are?
Never. Tiny brains turned eyes to
horizon clouds are burst to haze and
rain that never kisses. Low pressure
coming. Get home. The concert is
starting. The fish will be listening too.
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