Dull Heart

I don't ask much.
If you die on the road be courteous enough to do it
by the weeds beside the asphalt.

Be accountable for your actions and your missteps
that happened to turn a turtle
into a decorative shell plate
to rest a vase
on your coffee table.

Be willing to answer for your war crimes.
And be answerable to the united nations
inside the heads
that are still trying to account
for the missing.

Don't eat everyone else's food
when you know good and well
you could have eaten
before you decided to cross the trenches on a holiday.

Put things back where you picked them up
when you are in someone else's domain.

Leave it better than you left it
when you can remember to

and

Always be ready to pull up your socks
your stakes
your weapon
and bring a towel to every interface.
You never know when
it will be handy.

I don't ask much.
What I do ask is this:
Never, ever, on your life,
panic.

Oort

Is it a planet?  Is it a planet?  Gravity nominal.  Read out:
no metal core.

In the outer reaches
I sometimes run into another
set of headlamps
still on.
Body shape around it.
Kick it.  Switch channels.  Kick it.
Switch channels.
Bend down and send light into what looks like
the front of its helmet.

Where eyes should be.  As far as I know.  Switch channels.

Report back to my wrecker runabout.

Nothing but ice and rock.  Not a planet.  Let's keep looking,
Jackal.  The name of my runabout and child to my wrecker
waiting in the dark where the ice balls are smaller and
no risk to her armor.
For keepsake when I take Jackal back in and the wrecker
back to my station
outside of the ecliptic and inside the Oort cloud.

Like minded individuals have tried before me.

Each one of us,
some lost,
a little further from the sun
in darkness to see.

Breaking Apart The Origin of My Siblings

The first was without purpose and beloved.
The first asked for a second and the second
was different.
The second begged a third to gallivant and play
and the first had an entirely different set of rules,
fuel, and sway.
The first could not take care of the second
though the second could take care of the first,
however,
the second all alone could not be burdened
with that curse and so the third time was the charm
and the spell came true.
Two boys and one girl, two combat, train, and flume.
What would the first do, but to have see after
twin devils.
Fighting with sticks and rocks and guns
to be trained to be twin angels
while the first learned to dance and instrument,
to care for two angry robust hearts,
and so was born one last
angel capable and sound and sweet as a tart.
Two animals with horns that locked and played,
stout shoulders and brought up to make buildings sway
and one angel at the beginning who only wanted company
had two soldiers to journey and be quick with blades
with her other side born apart
and the knowledge that
we are all a part
of her original dream and to the wind intentions.
Adult and grown up
each of us a different invention.
Nothing came to be to their blue print looking down.

A symphony
when our strings hum
a song and  a sound

be it a single note held
or tremelo.
Two for depth and three for the shoals.
Four for cacophony, and the rest for death.
Be aware when we all wish
with one breath.