Irrational
suits in
sadness
wander as
a point
person pulls
his hair
through thought
less
days after
day

Super Soldiers

The re-education
of
psychotronic mannequins,
experiments
on
plastic.
Mind control
reform
for the
common man
or
world peace?

In the Ward

Rubbing noses and
robes with
elbows high –n-
mighty,
fingering tiny
cakes with
no feeling to
the touch.
An encore on
the floor,
scuffling muffles
the chatter.
Frozen as
the lights
come up,
silence.

Chronically volatile
thoughts
piercing through
a bubble
filled with
jelly and germs
awaiting
an opportunity
to worm and wiggle
their way
cell by cell
into
cracks and crevices
of aged skin.

Friday Afternoon

Bow-head
whale
flying through
the air
on a
whimsical
thought
of
the ultimate
super power.

Kung Fu youth,
utilizing
euthanizing
feelin’ goooood.
Verbalizing
paralyzing
sock it to me.
77 in the shade and
goin’ nowhere but up.
Simulated
stimulated and
the pipes are bursting.
Carry me home
on your Kun Fu
Sword.

Tuesday Night

“May I have a ‘T’, please?”

“Oh, yeah… there…are… THREE OF THEM!”

(I can sit alone watching the Wheel and drinking a beer while you hide in the closet. Come out, come out, wherever you are, rings in my head. How silly of you to hide like that.)

“I’d like to buy a vowel, Pat.”

(Just once I want to hear, “I’d like to buy a fucking vowel, Pat.”)

“I’m sorry, Marge, there’s no 'you'.”

Lunar Screams

The moon hangs suspended within its own silhouette. She can only hold on for so long before letting go and falling into the darkness. The air rushes past her long, lean body, as she watches the white, glowing moon becomes the size of a distant star, insinuating a pin prick. Unable to move or turn her head, she can’t see the black abyss below. Blinded by darkness she’s consumed by the sound of the wild wind. Her eyes are bulging in terror as the arch of her back strengthens in an effort to resist the pressure. The wind suddenly flips her over. She tries to open her eyes but the wind is too much. It enters her mouth in between silent screams, suffocating and spinning her out of control. A second attempt proves more successful but what she can’t see becomes more terrifying than the falling. There’s nothing below.