The crew rowed Sir Tom Bewick to the shore
That he was sure he had discovered first.
But waiting there for him was something more
Than just a tiny greeting party. Worse:
They spoke no English, and Sir Tom, of course
Had no idea what gibberish they shared
Their thoughts of him with. Each group was a source
Of fascination to the other. Scared,
The natives eyed him. Sir Tom eyed them back.
Had either group the other understood,
They'd laugh, for each were fearing an attack
By cannibals! It was too bloody good.
Sir Tom dined on headhunter tales for years;
The natives still have white man-hunter fears!
Thursday, June 30, 2016
The crew rowed Sir Tom Bewick to the shore
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
She'd knocked Gas out, the rest of them were dead
Or hiding. Alice stormed into the waste,
Her chatty rifle silent, out of lead
Or good advice. With nothing left to chase
Or question, Alice just kept walking. Dry
And empty, like the land that swallowed her,
She felt no purpose. Nothing left to try,
Nowhere to go. With nothing left to spur
Her onwards, finally she broke the still
And empty silence. "Gun, where can we get
More bullets? And, then, when we fill
You up again, what do you say we let
Someone in charge know that we're here, if such
Exists?" "Well yes, I'd like that very much!"
Tuesday, June 28, 2016
What rose up from the burning trees was not
Just any ordinary drifting smoke.
The flames were not just ordinar'ly hot.
'Twas something in the wood, perhaps. They spoke
At first of beetles; timber they had killed
Burnt diff'rently. But soon the valley knew,
Especially those who'd worked that wood, who'd milled
It into Forest Products: it was blue
And lovely, yes, but it was also cursed.
As smoke did cloud the valley, each man saw
As enemies his neighbors. All dispersed.
Distrust grew into hate and fear. The law
Was powerless. The murders didn't stop
Until one frightened cop was left on top.
Monday, June 27, 2016
That afternoon, along a lonely beach,
Where seldom ventured visitors, occurred
The last thing we'd expect. The creature's reach,
Its native waters, are, so I have heard
Entirely unlike where it appeared.
Nor does its kind come often upon land.
It swam the sand and soil until it neared
My sister's home. In haste did Krissy stand
And shoo away -- but 'twas I she dismissed!
"I have to take this" was all that she said.
I left but lingered; just to see what this
Was all about. I watched her shake her head
And wave her hands in anger, so I thought,
But couldn't tell from my poor hiding spot.
Sunday, June 26, 2016
"A better time there ain't," Eeago said
As his own lord and master took a look
At their new list of pris'ners and of dead.
"No one here could oppose us." Duke Drmpf shook
His orange head. "The rest, though, they'll come back
When done are all those dread hostilities.
And they'll undo our work." "Not if we stack
The deck while they are gone. My dear lord, please
Consider this. We call a vote before
More time escapes us. With it we'll declare
Those now abroad are citizens no more..."
"You're right! The dolts still here don't even care.
They'll vote with us, and then we just point out
Those who return are foreign, with no clout!"
Saturday, June 25, 2016
There's only ever one way to defeat
The Great Regression Field, that pulls us down
Below our sentience. We cannot cheat
Or trick a way on through. The Chosen, brown
Of hair and eye, was born for sacrifice.
From birth he was prepared for this one task,
Trained only to destroy the fell device.
No language did he learn, or skills. We asked
One thing alone of him, our brute, our dumb
But vital boy. He set off yesterday.
When all else hit the field, their minds go numb
And ne'er recover, witless beasts of clay.
Thus we are governed. But, should he succeed,
This planet can be ours again, indeed!
Friday, June 24, 2016
The fangs that gleamed in her attacker's maw
Were small and sharp, but not yet blood-stained. She
Watched carefully her foe's quick-twitching jaw
That feinted at her throat again. A wee
But speedy paw deflected, too, thus strike
Just like the multitudes before. No, Death --
Nor yet un-death would claim her now. I'd like
To tell you Sadie Rus-tese never lost her breath
Or took a scratch, but 'gainst a vampire-cat
That can't be so. But with her long, long limbs
She kept the thing at bay, e'en as it spat
And hissed its vilest threats. Throughout the grim
And endless night they battled, until dawn
Destroyed the monster. Sadie simply yawned.
Thursday, June 23, 2016
Jack Rottbador, the loyal guardian to
The little Queen of Scots, while she, in France
Endured attacks from ev'rywhere, came through
Most specially when somehow, by some chance
Wee Mary showed up with a pomander
Of brilliant hue and sweet and sickly scent.
She loved it so, she kept it close to her
At all times, so its perfume'd soon be spent.
No one could make her give it up. And when
Just days since she'd received it, she grew pale
And listless, she clung to it more. There'd been
A panic; she'd been poisoned! How? The wail
Fell on deaf canine ears. He saw the ball,
Then snatched, then lost it near the palace wall!
Wednesday, June 22, 2016
Nobody saw the monster -- well, except
For Rosie, pint-sized ball of ire and fur
And anger that intruders might beset
Her territory. Were this to occur
She'd kill or else be killed! Among her stock
Of weapons was her mighty sonic shriek.
She used it 'gainst all foes around the clock
With varying success. It was quite weak
On deer and power mowers, cats and those
Across the street who went about their chores
Like nought was wrong. At nighttime, though, there rose
The ghasts and gaunts and ghouls that she abhors,
That she alone can see. They shall not feed
While she can bark, they agonize indeed.
Tuesday, June 21, 2016
It was a Tuesday, very hot for June,
When Zoe told the others what she'd learned.
The dogs declared this very afternoon
Was when they'd act upon the rage which burned
In each of them. By ones and twos they left
Their yards (their masters working or at naps)
And all, the mighty dogs whose heft
Defeated humans; smaller ones whose yaps
Pierced space and time, did gather at the place
Described by Zoe, and began their Howl
Of Condemnation. Ev'ry canine face
Was black with concentration. One last yowl
And lo, the ritual was quite complete,
Cat killer's screams of horror sounding sweet.
Monday, June 20, 2016
Another kitten found dead in the road.
Miss Zoe Boxer knew this could not be
Coincidence! But information flowed
So poorly in her neighborhood. "I'm free,"
She reasoned. "Ev'rybody else is stuck
In fences. Only I can roam about
And find the truth! All right, then, wish me luck!"
From yard to yard she rambled. Over shouts
From humans to "Go home" she did consult
With all the canine sages. No one knew
Why feral kittens met with such results.
But then, in one vast driveway -- yes! A clue!
A dish of antifreeze was proffered there.
No critter who drank of it lived to share!
Sunday, June 19, 2016
As Albert Einstein stretched his corgi legs
(A deeply cute and funny thing to see)
His daughter, Margaret Thatcher cried "I beg
You once again to do this thing for me!"
(She said this with her face and tail, of course;
E'en corgis cannot speak the Queen's). "All right,"
Her daddy said. "Your nags at last hath force."
(They're quite expressive, no?) "I shall not fight.
We'll find a house that suits us. Turn it on."
An HGTV marathon ensued.
The perfect tiny house would be theirs! Gone
Would be that too-high furniture! Their food
Would ne'er be out of reach! One problem, though:
In so small quarters, where'd their human go?
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Suzanne and Rick had full lives, but as age
Crept up on them, they did admit some need.
Rick hated carebots, though. Then, on a page
In Cyber Fancy, their son chanced to read
An ad for a new breed of home-care tech:
NurseDogz! Thus came to their old house a pair
Of fuzzy poodles, programmed well to check
Blood pressure and such other stats as their
Physicians liked to know. And they were cute!
But soon Rick had subverted Willow, who
Reverted to her yappy, happy roots
And lied on her reports. Then Gracie, too
Developed glitches. Suzanne's crafty hack
Let her shop Amazon behind Rick's back!
Friday, June 10, 2016
O'Liam spent his days upon high plains
Beneath the purest skies, the brightest sun.
He filled his canteen at streams fed by rains
The gods themselves had sent. When day was done
He played his pipes then slept in starlight, glad
And merry. All was happiness until
Roe Rippon met his end, and met it bad.
This left a vacancy for Li to fill.
The herd was wondrous, beauty on the hoof,
Each mare of shining whiteness that would blind
Mere laymen's eyes. But those who called the Roof
Of Mountains home, were chosen. All was fine.
But then a stallion found the herd. Li failed
To fend him off, and, like Roe, died impaled.
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Two hundred ninety nine, and then there's me
A-waiting in the pass to take on more
Humanity than otherwise we'd see
Within our lifetimes. As it's said in lore
About such situations, we are doomed,
But, too, some stories from much further east
Talk of the little guy, as tall death loomed,
Who took it down as eas'ly as a beast
For slaughter. So, obedient to your laws
We stand. This Xerxes, he's still just a man
And men are mortal. Plus, we have a cause:
Our lands and all for which we feel they stand.
What's that? I hear a whoosh, and feel a pain
Between my eyes. Am I thus to be slain?
Wednesday, June 8, 2016
The dinner by the railroad tracks looked closed,
But smells of frying bacon, coffee, eggs
And maple syrup wafted out. Supposed
A body wandered in, Lynch thought. His legs
Were stiff from walking. Breakfast would be nice!
He sidled in. She nodded toward a seat.
"Sure thing. You sure don't have to tell me twice!"
He laughed. Soon he was finishing a sweet
And toasty roll with coffee. Then she slid
Into his booth. "We're at the KOA,"
She told him. "How'd you know? I's just a kid
Last time they did the ritchul." She would say
No more. And at the campground, a new stake
Was pounded in. Lynch soon would feed the Slake.
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
So badly wounded he could barely stand
Came Fenrir. The apothecary groaned
To see him. Werewolves, he'd said, should be banned.
Now here one was. "Please help me, Fenrir moaned
And held up one bright token that could not
E'er be rejected. He was hemorrhaging.
"Oh no! 'Tis a disaster! I have got
So little blood in stock!" "Doc, this thing --"
"Yes, yes, shut up. But all I have is Vlad.
I need more donors!" "Doc, you must obey --"
"I know. But this will be so very bad..."
But this transfusion did indeed take place,
And now a werewolf-vampire's ours to face.
Monday, June 6, 2016
As we talked, this strange woman who both was
And wasn't my own sister, honeybees
Surrounded us. They lighted, did not buzz,
Just quietly awaited something. "Please,"
She said with some anxiety, "Hold still."
I did -- I am allergic -- and we sat
That way for what seemed hours. When the chill
Of ev'ning then set in, a tabby cat,
A stray, jumped on the porch's railing, hissed,
And drove the bees away. "So then about
"These cultists," I began, but ageless Kris
Stole all my thought with such an angry glare
I felt that there was murder in that stare!"
Sunday, June 5, 2016
Ms . Suki flew a cargo freighter on
A fixed, unchanging route. A run took weeks,
Much of that time spent waiting to be gone
While maint crews did their thing. When Suki speaks
Of downtime, she knows best of anyone
The boredom that entails. It's no surprise,
Then, that on Ceres she has lots of fun,
A swinging single, while elsewhere grey eyes
(Her wife's) light up when her route brings
Her "home". And inside yet another rock
Two husbands raise her children. How these things
Were all discovered ends with screams and shock.
Her wife and younger husband, there on tryst
Had just meet Suki's girlfriend in their midst.
Saturday, June 4, 2016
The asteroid was not on many charts,
And bore no ore to make it worth the while
Of any who'd exploit it 'round those parts.
So it was perfect for a man of guile
Like Kwame Mikkelsen to build a place
Where secrets were exchanged, where shady deals
Were made and kept, where those of any race
Might go to mingle over hasty meals.
So he'd imagined, but reality
Made it more sordid yet. As tumbling rock
Did turn, more wedding vows were broken than
At any other dive. No ticking clock
Or tug of gravity stopped dame or man
From doing as they pleased. Then Suki Page
Hijacked a freighter, crashed it there in rage!
Friday, June 3, 2016
When Nol was born, no pilgrimage occurred
To see him, and no costly gifts were laid
Beside his bed. No bright and godlike bird
Announced his coming. No one's even made
An icon of this great event, but all
Know ev'ry moment of it, from the worst
Contractions that his mother felt, the bawl
He let loose when the air, so cold at first
Met his bare bottom. Now, as time and age
Have found him, none of us can see or hear
Or leave our beds. We've trembled with his rage
And laughed with him. It only took one smear
Of his blood on our skins. We all are he
And only when he's gone will we be free.
Thursday, June 2, 2016
Through icy seas and storms, their longship had
Survived, and they'd sailed west in search of new
Unplundered settlements. Ashore and clad
In leather and in furs and clutching blue
And stolen steel, Gudrun and Halfdan strode
Into Vinland's interior with their kin.
And plenty game they found, but no abode
Of men. One cannot raid where there has been
No one creating wealth. "We only find
A hunting ground," said Gudrun to her man.
"If there is metal here, we'd have to mine
And smelt it on our own. And break the land
Ourselves to plow it." Halfdan nodded. They
Stayed not. All eyes then watched them sail away.
Wednesday, June 1, 2016
They hadn't really thought things fully through
When they established this fine school. They'd named
It after an inspiring author, who
Was much admiréd, but when that time came
To choose a mascot -- oh, it's still too soon
To talk about what happened? Not all folk
Know how their loved ones died? But hey, it's June
And football ended months ago! The smoke
Still hasn't cleared? The field's still burning? Get
Yourselves together! There's a summer term
Beginning in just days! Yes, I just met
The chancellor, who said so. Yes, the burn
Is sad, and I am sure the dragon feels
As sorry as the staff, right now, for reals!