Name-Dropping

The kids are doing their kidly things again today, just the way they always do (until their hormones start flaring and they become walking orbs of self-pity just wallowing in their existential dross for as long as would be necessary for humans working on that whole enlightenment bit while also losing faith in the authorities once-espoused as the be-all end-all for retrograde composition of exquisite fanfare technology (though very little else when you actually think about it for longer than 10-15 seconds at a time)). Our lord and savior once said “you know, when it comes right down to it, I’m the one who created everything, so you can just go ahead and sell that model train collection, Deborah.” I don’t know who Deborah is in this particular verse, to be honest, but the statement still carries plenty of weight even if you don’t engage in any specific name-dropping activities.

Tempered — Pre-Primaries, 2016

Tempered by the blunt end
of a stainless steak knife,
throttled by a lack of anything
interesting to say–

say, how’s that weather?

Primary’s coming up,
don’t trust any of those clowns;
the whole system’s downright screwy anyway.
Can’t get behind those corporations
parading around as individuals,
CEOs making their dirty millions.

Can’t keep up this smalltalk,
I just want to scream
unintelligibly
at those crows hopping
over there. Who told them
they could have fun
while I’m around?

I can’t stand it
when others enjoy themselves,
especially animals. I can’t
tell them off
like I can a human, not that
I make it my business
to harass people.
The closest I’d ever get
would be a stoic monologue
about the nature of the universe
and its tendency to dissolve
into nothingness
without a moment’s notice.

I can make many a soul
uneasy
with that shrapnel language,
if you can believe it.

Enamored – 14:29GMT

Old Thomas Circuitberry had quite the affinity with our carriage lady and wouldn’t stop to pose for minor photography—no matter the monetary reward. The two of them made a habit of heading to the Metropolitan and drinking kool-aid all the way there, unbeknownst to their poor stomachs until it was too late—every single time.

All hell broke loose on a fairly regular basis—on at least 16 separate occasions. I kid you not; those two were so enamored with one another that a romantic tradition greatly overpowered sugar shock (and even the occasional split stomach).

We would observe this behavior and fail to ever remark upon it, satisfied to assume that their brand of love was unique, not to be tampered with for fear of unleashing the stores of karma they’d built up with every passing road trip.

This story is peculiar from a bystander’s point of view, as you undoubtedly noticed, o benevolent keepers of human specimens. Give me a margarita and leave me alone, would ya?

Current – 06:17GMT

Tempting and dangerous,
any and all alarming electric movements
take stock in curiosity,
infinitely patient, always current,
never guessing our next moves
but confident in the fact
that we’ll be moving
for as long as we have dominion
over this stubborn little globe
that we humans–meat sacks
with personality–think
is inherently conquerable.

Little do we comprehend
the supreme intelligence of the current,
the all-encompassing energy present
in anything worth a charge,
be it biological, mechanical
or a newfound combination–celebration–
of the two, seemingly at odds
for the longest, only to find
that their destiny was forged
long ago, perhaps by advanced peoples
unknown to all humankind, revealed
when the time has been deemed appropriate.

I’m telling you guys…
I don’t know what you’re thinking
when it comes to this planet’s
impending doom,
but I know for certain
that the most-evolved among us
won’t stand for anything less
than integration of souls and energy
when all is said and done.

I really wish I could use my arms.

I Took a Day – 08:49GMT

I took a day to spell my name,
Begot four kids and cooked a goose,
Remarked upon the crooked ways
Of law-enforcement officers,
Caught a stray cat, made it tame,
Released it into calmer seas,
Observed its boldest swimming stroke
Until after about an hour
It lost its life and floated out
To open water, past the boats;
Became a snack for orca young.

I started feeling rather bad,
But after all, I saved that cat!
Perhaps the water didn’t work
For its land-dwelling tendencies
Requiring motion-ceasing rest
A back float just can’t satisfy.
The tide went out, and so the cat
Kept drifting to the deep abyss
Until a mighty albatross
Came gliding by on limber wings
And signaled to its family
That maybe furry mammals can
Adapt to open ocean climes.
But after a few seconds’ look,
The sea bird found it was deceived
And called off all its flighted kin.
It beat its wings and gained some height,
Resumed its path across the sky,
Alone—alone as usual—
And traveling to unknown space.

I managed to observe all this
A hundred miles away on land
With super strong binoculars.
I started to convince myself
That maybe I had sinned against
The animal kingdom that day,
A realm of which I am a part.
But I reminded myself then
That my value on this earth
Is not that of those lesser drones
And packed up my binoculars,
Chucked them off the roof
With all my worldly strength
And laughed a hearty laugh.

Am I a lesser specimen than you, o intimidating scoundrels of hostage-holding expertise? Am I to go down as a pawn in the pyramid scheme you’ve perpetrated since the beginning of human literacy? Just put me out of my misery!

I really wish I could use my arms.

Dragon – 12:32GMT

You would bet the farm on an unlimited supply of meatloaf and meatloaf substitute, would you not? I can tell whenever protein-rich diner favorites predominate people’s minds; I can just see from the look in their eye, and indeed simply from their thought patterns. I acquired this infallible skill from a dragon I met on my way through Spain. He was a kind old creature, and I’m not sure why people insist on calling dragons brutish fire-breathing destruction machines. Most dragons don’t even have the capability for breathing fire! Only a tenth of all dragon species have evolved that annoying feature, and they are actually some of the kindest, wisest dragons of them all. Sorry to debunk that myth of fire-breathers being unscrupulous killers, but–wait, no I’m not! That’s an unfair stereotype that has stigmatized the entire dragon family tree for far too long.

Anyway, I digress. The Spanish dragon who taught me how to instantly judge a person’s desire for meatloaf–and meatloaf substitute–simply imbued me with the gift. He was advanced in years, and had developed the ability of granting individuals one random skill. And in order to prevent these skills from becoming novelties or parlor tricks, this dragon has ensured that the recipient of said random skill becomes, unambiguously, the world’s best practitioner of it–for all time, might I add.

There is a trick to this dragon’s wisdom and generous gift–as always–you must be the one to find out which skill you’ve been given; it will not be told. Needless to say, it took me some time to figure out just what it was. I’m still not 100% sure if I’ve gotten the skill completely correct, but I know for sure that I’m able to accurately gauge someone’s distinct level of desire for meatloaf and meatloaf substitute, and that’s good enough for me, dammit.

But back to the topic at hand here: why are you, my beloved captors, so goddamn obsessed with meatloaf, anyway? Also, are you really just interested in meatloaf substitute? I’m unable to differentiate between the desire for the original dish and the hippie version, much to my displeasure. Stupid dragon.

But since I’m getting such a strong meatloaf reading from you guys, I can only assume that you’re of the human persuasion. Unless you’ve assimilated into the human culture so much that you’ve genuinely developed cravings for our comfort food. This conspiracy must go all the way to the top, sweet Christ.

I really wish I could use my arms.

Stilted Behavior – 00:00GMT

Here’s a thought on thought for you, my beloved captors. Be ye men, aliens, government drones? Ach. In any case, I now share my wealth of conspiratorial knowledge. Turn thine ears upon my candor and weep.

I really wish I could use my arms.

Stilted behavior wreaks havoc on the psyche, putting into play a set of circumstances that simply shouldn’t be, irreparably altering what would have been the natural course of events. Of course, since the timeline has shifted, who’s to say that it wasn’t meant to happen that way in the first place? Perhaps each example of stilted behavior is necessary for the history of this world–or plane of existence. Perhaps all behavior is fated to occur just the way it has, does, and will, and we’re unwitting pawns who only think we’re impacting the outcome of things.

Will someone please dim the lights, even for just a minute?
I have to scratch my ankle.