Wednesday, August 31, 2016
Its wood was all 'twas left of her strange friend.
"Oh no," was all she said; she was in shock
To see her rifle come to such an end.
The whine of metal-mites diminished to
Inaudability. The lovely mist
Now smelled of rust, like blood. She wandered through
Unseeing, down a path, hands clutching wrists,
All dazed and purposeless. Then came to pass
She thought of all they'd left back in their wake.
The rabbit-skunk, the scorpion, and Gas --
Her teeth then clenched so hard her jaw did shake.
Her fury thus rekindled, she did yell
"Whoever built this, you will burn in hell!"
Tuesday, August 30, 2016
Of his old uncles put together. Trey
And his two brothers liked to go and see
What they could find inside it, but by day
Alone. At night its eeriness was more than such
Young boys could deal with -- that is, 'til the night
That Trey, who'd just turned nine, screwed up as much
Raw courage as he could, grabbed knife and light
And went inside. The shadows seemed malign
But 'twas the yowl that chased him back outside.
Days later he heard tell that Auntie Vine
Had used to drown stray cats in there. He tried
Again, and heard that terrifying screech
And saw a ghost cat flailing, out of reach!
Monday, August 29, 2016
"Ms. Willis, we might get your money back,
But then again we could ignobly fail."
Ms. Beck, a stone facade without a crack
Let this defrauded mother rage and wail
Awhile, and then explained what must be done.
Young Duke was fitted out with microtech
To capture his experiences, then one
Fine Monday, with the blessing of Ms. Beck,
He went to school. The footage he brought home
Was shocking. Upon entry, he was shot
With something that induced in him a numb
And dreamless sleep! At day's end "You forgot,
Just have your mother sign this. Field Trip Day
Is soon! We're going to whisk you all away!"
Sunday, August 28, 2016
A gendarme on the famous Cote d'Azure,
Was given an odd duty, though it well
Did suit him: he was sent off to assure
That ladies' bathing suits weren't let to show
Too much of their fair forms. He worked with zeal,
And modesty was saved. A century
Or so, and his great-grandson -- is this real? --
Reflected on this ruefully as he
Was sent to those same beaches to police
The wearing of "burkinis". "Show more skin!
That now must be our motto! That two-piece,
It is too moral, therefore it's a sin!"
He laughed himself to illness, thus he missed
Enforcing it ere France chose to disist.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
And trusted in their gadgets and their traps
To keep the cops at bay, but the affair
Did not end as they'd planned. Their foes found gaps
And flaws in their defenses, and before
Too long just one door separated them.
"Come out, you punks. Come on, you know the score!"
The leader bellowed. No one answered. "Been
A-breaking yet more copyrights?" He called.
"We make things that folks need, man, we save lives!"
"I've heard that crap before --" but then, appalled
The sergeant checked his warrants once more. "Stives!
Your kid who got the beesting? How'd that go?"
"We used a knock-off Epi-Pen." "Oh, no!"
Friday, August 26, 2016
Down at the bottom of a glacial lake,
High in the mountains, where the water's cold
Is most profound, a lac-maid's worst mistake
Occurred one day when she found, set in gold
A shining opal. Like her ocean kind
(Called mermaids) she did dearly love a gem!
But this one started playing with her mind
Ere she could even bring it to her den.
The winter comes much sooner, up so high,
And her trout half would let her hibernate
Beneath the ice until spring's thaw was nigh.
This year, though, addled, she thought t'would be great
To pass the season up atop the ice.
Her frozen corpse has been discovered twice.
Thursday, August 25, 2016
When he invented -- hero of the age! --
The Crüemeister. "Oh man, this is the spit!"
Wednesday, August 24, 2016
The person who first stepped down from the ship,
Whose boot first trod Proxima b's dry dust
Was only nine years old. The long, long trip,
Produced new generations, as such must.
Jah Wrench was one of these -- and of the few
Who still survived, she was the strongest, tough
And literate. She'd captained them on through
The last stretch of the journey, just enough
Resources left to keep the children fed
And breathing. Now she'd have to lead the band
On this new world. Soon they must move their dead
From shipsoil into this unpromised land
To fertilize it. So much to be done!
She shook her fist up at the big, red sun.
Tuesday, August 23, 2016
The tree was old as old. Its berries, tart
But tempting, drew the birds from miles around
To feast, but only when the juicy heart
Of ev'ry fruit was well fermented. Sound
And fury and intoxicated flight
Would follow then, as any might expect,
But something always happened overnight,
The flocks of morning, maddened, strong and wrecked
Were filled with strange hostility as each,
Once bowels were emptied (purple stains galore,
A dire warning), all as one would screech
And dive bomb any mammal by the score.
Thus August brought death on the angry wing ,
The tree just standing silent. Vicious thing...
"My boy has had straight As in ev'ry grade,"
Jo Willis bragged "His teachers told me he
Was quite the model student." "I'm afraid
They weren't truthful." "Huh? You kidding me?
Duke, come out here." A sullen, sleepy boy
Obeyed, but soon his mother sent him back;
He'd demonstrated little but a joy
In stomping ants. "He truly seems to lack
The basics. Can he even tie his shoes?"
"He's seventeen!" His mother roared. Ms . Beck
Just raised her eyebrows. "Ma'am, I got to choose
Where he went for his schooling. Ev'ry check --"
"I'm sure they cleared, but 'Ross Ecole' is not
A thing that's real." "You mean that I've been got?"
Sunday, August 21, 2016
She sat way in the back for ev'ry class.
Poor vision had him up in the front row.
Denise, not one to let this stop a pass
Of notes, propped up a book so that it would not show,
What she was up to. Ere the first week's end
The app was written. Now her only task:
To get it on his phone. But not one friend
Had they in common, not one kid to ask
To help her. She'd resort to NFC
If needed. Woe to her: his phone was Fruit,
While hers was not. "Just wasn't meant to be,"
She sighed, and didn't tell him he was cute
Until a school reunion - 30 years! -
"You might have just said 'Hi'" said he. Such Tears!
Saturday, August 20, 2016
The shooting star that fiery streaked the sky
Went unremarked by any that would know
It was no star. And not one sentient eye
Beheld what crawled up from the crater's glow.
"Looks like we're way too late," a being said
While hoisting out a fellow. "Not again!"
The other cried. "Now, now, don't lose your head..."
(We're taking liberties; their language then
Was unlike any human speech). "We might
Find in the rubble something that will tell
Us what we need to hear!" For many nights
And days they searched through all the burnt-out hell
That was our Planet Earth, then gave up. "How
Will we learn who killed Laura Palmer now?'
Friday, August 19, 2016
"I know that you will do it," bade the will,
Near irresistible, of Dragon Blunt
Good Doctor Famulus, held quiet, still,
And nearly helpless by that gaze did grunt,
Then spoke at last. "You need to set me free,"
He stammered. "I can't help you with a mind
And body pinned like this. Thanks. Now, let's see
That hip." The worm then gingerly did wind
And turn. "You're young to have such wear. Just four
Millennia? How odd. But I'll say yes,
Provided Gend the Smith can do the chore
Of making a replacement joint, I'd guess
I can. Until then, though, stay off it. Fly
But do not walk on that, and I'm your guy."
Thursday, August 18, 2016
As small as she (and she was four foot nine
In heels), her Metropolitan, the star
Of her own firmament. When Andrew Dyne,
A student in the Home Ec class she taught,
And captain of the school's great football team,
Beheld it, he had notions on the spot.
He'd be a legend! How his eye did gleam
When he told his best teammates of his plan.
To push that tiny car took just two guys,
The rest just found weird spots to hide it. Man,
They hid it ev'ry time she took her eyes
Off her beloved prize. At last she bought
A doberman. Soon Dyne's career was shot.
Wednesday, August 17, 2016
"What will I turn into for drinking here?"
Asked Alice, hoarse of voice. Her eyes were red,
And her expression -- well, it wasn't fear
Contorting her tired features. "No, that ain't
The hazard I'm suspecting," she was told.
Before her cracked lips issued new complaint
(The mist was so inviting, clean and cold!)
The pair of them were swarmed, trapped in a cloud
That bit and scratched in microscopic ways.
"Oh no, it's metal-mites, and such a crowd!"
A screech resounded. Girl and gun, whose days
Together had brought ruin, now were done
As partners. "Hey, you're bleeding, dummy. Run!"
Tuesday, August 16, 2016
Throughout your time inside. And here's a thing
To press if you need out. But don't let fear
Delay this; get it overwith. We'll bring
Some water and some cold packs if you get
Too panicky. They'll be here, just outside
When you're all done." "Ok," she said. "I bet
I don't freak out 'til afterwards. Let's ride."
Halfway through, all just stopped. "Hello?" she called,
And pressed the button sev'ral times. "What's wrong?
Hey, where'd you go?" There was no sound. She bawled
"Please let me out!" The screams she heard were strong
Enough to penetrate the great machine
In darkness. "Tell me this is just a dream?"
Monday, August 15, 2016
My keen attention on my sister's tete-
A-tete with that strange monster. I can't say
What happened, that split second. Such is fate:
We miss what we'd most dearly like to see
Because our hindbrain thinks all things are threats
That do surprise us. So then, only me
Would others notice where I stood. It gets
Yet weirder, there at my dear sister's place.
The shark and she, they both had disappeared,
Odd ripples in the dirt the only trace
Of either. Late that night, I got a note
At my hotel. "So long" was all she wrote.