In Poems & Fiction

now this.

I nearly faked my own death by electrocution.

Sounded like a rearrange of the original epic

techno, rock opera filibuster, by Whatshisname.

Thank goodness for daylight savings time.

Otherwise, I would have been a gonnner.

Now, I think I’m going to enjoy myself,

but I can’t be sure.  It’s just my opinion.


Satan says, when matter collides with anti-matter,

all that remains is light. Beautiful floristry, though.

My friend Shakespeare says, don’t be silly, that’s total nonsense.

But I’ve got my doubts, on account of his botched retirement.

Imagine, walking around town with a bloodstained bag of knives?


By the way, this is the most letters I ever wrote in one place,

at least since she told me she was going to make me her first husband.

You think that would have stood out,

but I guess I was desensitized by the life-sized micro-greens.

Motorcycle club or biker gang?

It all depends on how you look at it.

Come to think of it, it was like she was camouflaged by underlined italics.

That made it hard to tell whether I was in the treatment group or the control group.


You know how it is.

At first, everything seems like an autopsy.


Then, a light shines on it.




Appeared in Five 2 One, 2016


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