we miss the proper storms

the talk turned to lighting
back home
then
wind rain and hail
outside she smoked
he spoke
and the octopus squirmed
in his cage

conversations where
nothing happens
ain’t adequate
so morbidity ain’t
nothing
to me

this morning I notice
a bruise on my leg
I’m sick to my stomach
With fear
deep-vein thrombosis?
panic attack
breath short
some adventurer.

analysis

oh what a crime
I’m too cerebral
for the girl who is
bragging about
taking nitrous in a hot tub

oh what a crime
I’m too callous to
empathize while he bawls
his eyes out over a mental case

I never asked for this
I only wanted to
test the waters
til they went
splash but then
there was blood
then there was blood
and tattered limbs
pink water thinning
and what did
we want to do
with you
again?

the bats from that poem the mouse reads

stroll through the neighborhood
ambient blanket of pitches
spreadin' 'round like sloppy watercolors

last night
i saw a dancer
who smelled like cocoa pebbles
when she leaned in close

russian illustrators never
dreamed of bats so ornate
and so high-tech

sonar clicking outside
our realm of hearing

a wash of pitches
doppler diffused

floating on decongestants
bacteria fighting one another
i splash through the rain
for breakfast

wind up head in sink
choking up bile
and antibiotics

splash away tears and
snot - coldest water
i can find
wipe the sweat off

get back, get better,
get rest

the random sounds
splash 'round like
sloppy watercolors
or chalk from the kids
in the driveway next door
streaming down the sidewalk

no news

shamed because i didn't save any cash
didn't enjoy my weekend
didn't get over it
didn't earn any overtime pay for next week
didn't even stay up late
didn't taste anything

i did show up
a few times, but
i missed the exercise
i missed the opportunity
i missed the game
i missed the bullseye
i missed her lips
i missed the camaraderie
i missed the tips
even when i have time
i yield it to
futile pursuits
mental bland fruit
soured or bruised
we bring you the news.

human after all

I have this
friend who believes the
Saudi royal family,
and the Kennedys
belong to
a different species
with reptilian features
like scales and tails and
cold, cold blood

he turned us
on to battlestar
and i have to admit that
it is pretty great
for a sci
fi type of story
endorsed by friends whose
philosophies I
truly do
admire, but whose choice
of beliefs in alien
overlords seems at
best a sort
of entertaining
and willful self-delusion,
and at its worst a
"human" flaw