Sci Fi Saturday: Deersaster!

A prion malady affecting deer
Was Deirdre's research topic: not to cure
But to control it. Ever there's the fear
That populations will exceed the sure
Capacity of habitats. To hunt
Or eat the animals was not the way
On Deirdre's planet. One day, with a grunt
Of triumph, an assistant, Donnie Ray,
Showed off results with promise, and the news
Did reach the money men too quickly. Thus
Field testing in the wild, that would yield clues
Concerning flaws, was skipped. Therefore the fuss
Is justified. Now ev'ry town's beset
By telepathic ungulates, O vet!

Fantasy Friday: A Change of Employer

The pair checked in just ere the crack of dawn.
They both looked tired, but one seemed quite near death,
So pale and wan. The other gave a yawn
That showed vast teeth, e'en as there puffed no breath.
I realized what I witnessed, but I had
No choice. I'm just a desk clerk, had to rent
A room to them. It's legal, but it's bad
That folk can choose so exploitive and bent
A way to make a living. Vampires are
E'er at advantage, rich and sexy, too,
So I bet they don't pay well. "Park the car,"
This one bid his blood bag. "And as for you,
You're coming too, to feed me, as you're bid."
"Uh, no!" I said, but then of course I did.

Throwback Thursday: Aeronautical Advances

What Icarus and Daedelus had done
Was not entir'ly wrong, as Donocles
Concluded. From his childhood in the sun
Of Thebes, his thoughts had tended toward these
Ideas. Where had those two gone so wrong?
The boy had flown too high; his sin of pride
Was what most took away, ne'er mind the long
And careful planning of his father. Wide
Was Donocles's smile. They all forgot
The sun could not have melted those fine wings
Were they not bound by wax. But cords and knots
Would fare much better! Soon he'd put these things
In order, and sent skyward his own boy...
Who failed to fly at all. Still not the ploy.

Weird Wednesday: The Patriarch

From deep within the tree trunk watched a man
Who'd disappeared within it long ago,
His price for going forward with a plan
To guard his own descendants, see them grow
In safety from his enemies. From there
Beneath the bark and sap, his will held sway.
When raiding parties came to strip him bare
They found him not. His family, at play
Did never know their danger. Swarms of bees
And other creatures barred those who'd attack,
As Father willed. And through the centuries
His tree spread suckers, claiming rich and black
And fertile land for all his progeny.
A bargain quite well struck, if you ask me.

Terror Tuesday: True Terror, Part I

"Bestseller" was a title from his dreams,
But now it was quite real for Cooley. All
His wishes had come true, as though bright beams
Of pure good fortune shone on him. The tall
And handsome woman he had married then
Told him he'd be a father in the spring.
His joy could not be measured. When a friend
Joked that it was just like his books (a string
Of such remarks were made), he tried to laugh
It off, but when one day an ice cream truck
Began patrolling on his street, he half
Began to cry. "It's just coincidence,"
His mother cooed, but that just made him wince.

Mystery Monday: Her Voyage, Part III

Such clues there were to work with! Few made sense.
Her nephew has no mem'ry of the stunt
He called his mom about; the strange, intense
And quiet intonations, let's be blunt
Of those school children are in no known tongue.
Meanwhile, the captain has his own thing on
(It's gender reassignment, and it stung
His wife when he came clean about it). Gone
She still remains, and no one -- wait, what's this?
Dear list'ners, new reports keep coming in!
A man in Nova Scotia claims that Kris --
Yes, her, Miss Pollard -- all these years has been
An ageless resident of Digby town
Ere since the cornerstone was there laid down!

Satire Sunday: Wait, Who Are We Mad At, Again?

As adaptations went, this was unique.
The heroes of the novels were transformed
By TV into cowards, thieves and sneaks;
The villains were redeemed. The fans were warned
That changes would be happening, lest, stale
And run by rote, the story'd be a bore
For those who'd read the books, but that did fail
To stave off ire and violence. A score
Of scripters soon were threatened, and, likewise,
Some TV fans who'd taken up the books
While waiting for new seasons set their eyes
Upon a stand-in "writer", one whose looks
Incensed them all the more. The author, though
Was really the same guy who ran the show.