Veterans Of An Unseen War

Something is wrong with the machine. I was awake for four hours. It woke me up. Flowers make it worse. So sleepy this morning. The glittering buildings. I want you to sleep honey. We hear babies. All other things come into mind. I've got some eye problems too. Still empty spots. Big area. Seeing color. Webs. Indications. Nothing they can do. Right. Fairly common among people. We can't go at all. They're going to start pretty soon.

There's Also Muscular

Q's plan had me up against some roadblocks. Looking for detours. I made it just in time to the brightly lit field where I was shot. This time was less painless. It was only my life. Seeing another issue on up ahead. Protein. Muscular wanted something I could never deliver. I asked the flowers. They nodded. Just nodding.

Q Knocking

I refuse. My mind a tangled afterthought. Walking away from Q and to my destiny. Castles in the air. Ice cream. Keys to the roadster. No regrets and no promises. There is sunshine maybe clouds just for fun. The cave will wait but for now freedom is expecting me although I didn't exactly save the invitation.

The Day I Used Q

Nobody killed me I only used it once plus it was in a title not especially counting towards the body of anything any moment. There are some using it all the time something fancy is speaking through the mask dusty on the shelf of the impossible ghost town.

Please Kill Me If I Ever Say Quotidian

If I even use its bright onion glow. The stairs up to the mountain. Impressive! Why do I hate it? Why do I hate that word. Pray to it if you hear it. Life is a numbers game quite enough thank you. Somewhere I believe in but please don't place it in my mouth anywhere else on the shelf. There's no room for another knick-knack littering up the place where dumb poets are living. Please kill me. Kill me now. Crowding my good title.

Two Years Ago

There was something strange about the lava returning to its state of flowing again from the flank. Almost as if two years ago were returning to become before two years ago and then turning into two years ago again.

Barstow Half-life

We sipped and supped and dined on sand in Barstow.Barstow's half empty cup so full so sick she was so ill and I said no he practices his keyboards every evening there will be no room for you and your cancer recovery--waiting in Barstow waiting for good. Let us visit now. Let us gaze at the river. There is a rose garden. It is full. I promise you can stay as long as you'd like. Even Dad. Just say the word or don't say it. Looking past the junk. Seeing through the debris. Walking around and over and across. Good at avoiding the dangerous thorns.

Remembering

Ibe trgeubfg U renenbered were ================ said the robot. Said my memory. Patchy in places. Askew. The bomb did more damage than I thought. A chair waits in the yard. Out back. A nice lamp lighting up the place. Let us wash off the garlic. Keep away the babies. They will grow and then what do you have? A total takeover. We'll make more space next weekend. That's when you're invited. Although you've invited yourself. Still. Welcoming.

The Calling

The clock is ticking buildings flimsy collapsible. Waiting calmly through the fires matching each to each. One always going one always there. Let us raise our glasses sipping sweet cider licking away the dew.

Frosting On The Cake

Himalayan berry blossoms leaning over draping heavy hair arms. Roses gone wild pasting rain back to where it belongs. That tree. Love for those trees. Their bark. Useful. Magnifying.

Up Against

Artistic planet, o over-arching train-- downtown. Seeing Jay. Wrapping around. Calling. Magnetic knob-- o butte. Butte air a violin sweetly playing questions. So early.

Moving Is Home To Me

We finally move Into the city Finally see the streets The air ground level. All I knew before. Ravens and their cousins. Tall grasses jotting my Number. Inside it's strange And dark. Welcome to the cave. Depositing. What keeps well?

The Meeting

Coffee dripping. Life cleaning Up. Moving. This time to the foot Of the butte. The smaller one. It once Was a grassy lump. Trees crowd the place. The train sits beside. Noise running away. (Now we'll have) enough money to eat What curiosity left. Already meeting us there.

Standing By

May rain for the garden. Split between drops. Soaking chances for the milkweed I planted yesterday. Sounding strange. Planting. Milk. Weed. For the butter. Flies. Garden. At the butte. My.

Showy Milkweed

The hum stopped just in time for the robot party. I arrived early and stayed late of course. The buzz took me by surprise. It was inside my ear. Attracted to the showy milkweed growing there. Also under the sign.

Most Of It

I get most of it. I mean Understanding. Hummingbirds. How Rosemary is queen no matter what. Also rose and sage. Helping. They wrote about havingitall. Owningitall. What they didn't know is this: Broken elevators are no good. A mysterious noise. Descending.

How Quickly

They were treated and he had to leave the island. Excruciating pain. The doctor came. I remember when they came back. Eat only a little when you're hungry. He was ready to go. He had it. Two fainted. One had to leave. He had to leave. The girl made it. They really liked the other one. Still missing him. All the other males went. So it's the last four left. A team but not together.

Nonpareil Daemmerung

She knew I was there and cried to be let in through the garage door to her food on the cement floor right by her little fake sheepskin. Now it is getting lighter outside geese are flying off a carved wooden handle. The hippy mug off to one side showing a strange map back to then. A glass vase holding dark purple iris and peonies.

Like Banks

The river ran beside her hatred. Her hatred of Eugene. She left headaches behind. The land clear the more she traveled away. Eugene couldn't follow her there. Without problems. No erasures. Eugene wanted her back. Again. She made a bargain. A bargain with Eugene. Keep your Grecian promises. Listening to the mountain.

Never Loved

We never loved the bomb but we learned to hate with a secret hate for it always it took first place priority. It was always the reason. If things got too close too distant. There it was again. The fact of it. So it never really went away. Not quite fully detonated. Exploding. Forever exploding.

Mom Pome Poem

The bomb will always be hers belonging to that day. The bomb will be kept locked in an aftermath that keeps getting added up again and again to see if somehow there was some sort of mistake the rows of the dead lined up for all to see. This was wrong so wrong. Ongoing calculations. Subtracting an art to count on. Plus apples and their trees. Waiting for their fruit. Imagine.

Written In Mud

In the old home town Long sentences all the rage Two and two together oh how They laugh and laugh and cry Titles all collage. Fashion and fragrance Towels and empty jugs Handles missing flowers Birds borrowing.

Tangerines

Eat the white part. Two per day. Rind of honeydew-- castor oil, peppermint oil, lavender oil. After dark Mt. Mazama clay forms a second skin. Doesn't leave a scar. Add postage later.

Dada Stupor

I know we are hamburger Chopped meat for the scavengers But why can't we pretend music Will keep things together like eyes Working on the problem will fix Everything rumpled with smoothing. You stand there and I'll be here. What we wear. Gyroscopes. Language. Raspberries like the ruling laws. Gravity holds down the thorns eventually. So many strings attaching. Roots letting go just barely.

That Skimpy Thing

Life is thin. The walk is not the talk at all. My back hunched like a bear. Claws for digging. Grubs are plentiful near the surface this time of year. The taken ingredients. Why are we here looking in the mirror. There are inside beings haunting corners under spiders dust inside cups. The old mirror showing. Walnut shells where nobody ate any. Bone fragment I will not touch my tongue to.

All Along

The bomb wasn't special. Later there were others with fire. How the past became even stronger. Present disappeared. Going back we couldn't find its separation. Carrying on without us. Never perfect. Never satisfied. Always the same.