Thursday, January 5, 2012


A replication of thumbs
Up the forearm
Like fringe
And for holding
A fighting pole
No better

Then down in the uncanny valley
Your polearms crossed like chopsticks
You greet the topless Minoan priestesses
In the distance

Their arms like goal posts

Mythic cosplay
Bout more overboard

And from the haze of gifts

Neon in the rain
And 19th century music
Pink cables snaking behind
Engineered enclosures

The socium is a gas
And ideology a double walled
Containment system
Any change in pressure
And the alarm sounds
Valves policing the flow

Mass flow control
Is so early in our history
Because we ourselves
A home to valves
Excellent and most truly worthy

But dogmen come dancing
With double shields
And like eyes
We prop open the lids

For sleep assures
All indignant babies

Take up zebraic togas
And cone hats with smiley faces

Eternal flames
At the peaked

And in droves
They go
To see the races
Mersimian jockeys
On a close foam
Of breakneck dolphin

Wild over the falls
Into elegant diving postures
Their finned hats
Among the sensor nets

Under the great
Mirrored ball
Of the finish line
Its vertical