Very smoky out this morning, the sun a deep orange. When Wally was a puppy three years ago, it was like this, though worse. Hotter, and the grass dry and stiff. I wrote about that smoky summer and @robmclennan published it at Dusie. It's one of the poems in my (still technically circulating?) MS.
3D printing everything,
copying it bit by bit.
Filament is made from
bits of real world”,
the ad says. The duplicate
will be indistinguishable
from the original. My
evil plan is afoot. I
don’t worry about
fidelity. My
predecessor
didn’t either.
Evil hands wring
“muahahah.”
A burst of color in bespeckled night,<br></br>you came into my life like foxfire’s glow:<br></br>and I was left agape beneath your light,<br></br>a dancing phosphorescence on the snow.<br></br><br></br>I tried awhile to catch you in my grip,<br></br>like clay that reaches upward to the sun;<br></br>and earthbound I, like sunlit dirt, would slip<br></br>and end our rendezvous ere it begun.<br></br><br></br>Aurora, how I long to watch you dance!<br></br>Once in my lifetime I had eyes to see<br></br>your form across the starlit night by chance;<br></br>to some you’re commonplace, but not to me.<br></br><br></br>Aurora, you who animates the sky,<br></br>I’ll never hold you, but I’ll always try.<br></br>
I hit on them. Big time. With my fist is what I'm saying. On their heads. They're dead. They are the deadest things that ever died. Squirrels are traumatized. #poem#Bigfoot
If you look close enough at life,<br></br>observe with care the galaxy<br></br>and navel-gaze for long enough,<br></br>you will in time be made to see<br></br>we cannot by mere science find<br></br>an answer to the question why;<br></br>our lamp-oil may be well refined,<br></br>but we will still in darkness die.<br></br><br></br>We live atop a heavy tower<br></br>that teeters on its burdened base:<br></br>we drink a fresh-poured pint of power<br></br>and revel in our heightened place.<br></br>By intellect we’ve donned the crown,<br></br>from Babel’s peak we now aspire;<br></br>yet we’ve neglected to look down<br></br>and see the fundaments on fire.<br></br><br></br>Our morals have not matched our means:<br></br>for in this world that we’ve designed,<br></br>self-interest coldly contravenes<br></br>our common cause, and leaves us blind.<br></br>We’ve found a thousand ways to kill<br></br>but lost the ways to live, to feel –<br></br>we have engineered a modern marvel<br></br>and fallen asleep at the wheel.<br></br>
I thought
Thought
Had hope
Only briefly
But still so beautiful
Short the love
Short the longing
Long but then the pain
Drilling
Painful then the questions
All fallible
All gray in me
All gone now
Heavy the heart
Burdened now
With pain that never fades
Mistakes now
The questions now
Thinking so frantically
To help
Find help
But where only
Everything now wrong again