who is that one inside you you know
the one that can’t get out but does
the one that bangs-out all your love
still after ever you are not as bad
as you feel in other people’s dreams
all that water leaking from your heart
all those phantoms lined up at your till
all that clawing just beneath the grate
cicadas shut inside your ears to stay
twenty million years and still it tastes
the way it tasted when they locked it up
when homicide still counted as a date
we disregarded side effects like death
we tried to fool our predators with paint
what didn’t kill us never made us strong
that lashing girl where’s she at now
we miss her amplitudes and autoclave
god-a-mighty how we miss her little dog
image from University of Washington Digital Collections http://bit.ly/UbZ4Yz
Alas the captain
the last late asteroid flies past
that swarm of clicking drives us.
Anything to save the herd. He says.
If the core overheats.
Bypass the vessel and all its vessel-like,
retrofit the avatars.
We do the future.
We made Mars.
Our ray guns light up
while the reptoids.
An enormous hole on deck five.
But our outfits more stylish than.
We are the partial humans,
We have names, we weld,
we meld, we hang out in wormholes
and hotels. We love tubed nutrients,
our plasma bomb.
we’re an underground.
Not lightning on the horizon.
antennae anomalies, warheads
and pranks, institutions
and airy boats the size of
dinosaurs blocking out.
Separated we guess
the other’s mind. The engineer
has moved the plate,
our window not a window
but a gate.
how we loved him, that wily wine boy,
the racket he made to call us out
how our families kicked doors shut behind us
to be rid of him, to make us follow
wherever he wanted us to go
how we loved his wildness
his outfits and his crazy hats
when at last he foxed up as a man
we screamed and tore our dresses
we slept with leopards and snakes
we wrapped our hair with vines
we loved the way he made us unafraid
and reckless, our bodies like wide water
and him the boat and the sky
so unlike imposters who underestimated
what we could do if our ire was up
and our cups were full of wine
we were his hands and eyes and mouth
this man who needed to fear
the women he needed to love him
and needed to kill what he loved
the nights he made for us to tear into
till there was nothing lasting we could know
if echoes of our music shadow the wind
into the place where you sleep,
wake up, make haste, and come along–
girl, he’ll have you if you do or if you don’t
and with him, doing is a lot more fun
modified image; original image from http://www.mlahanas.de/Greeks/Dance.htm