After Yemenese Pumpkin Guts

Hurtling at a breakneck clip

Towards extinction

Mankind’s Goodship

20 petaflop processing

Titan, coolly calculated

Unnamable gluons

This 29^th of October

2012,

Monday the Singularity was born

Then died

Glimmering its final blip

Glup glup glup

Into the great unspoken silence

Drop

ping

Fizz rises to the top of

Stillness

A dark shadow rises over us looming

Like mute juggernaut lumberjacks

Dressed in sirens

Or blue whales or

A moth

That’s lost its way

Somewhere between Iceland

And Antarctica

Not obscurantist

Darker

A burlesque sky

A black limp

A seamless light

A whispering bench makes

Sibilant clicks

No one alive

To hold their breath

(exhale)

Waken

To the knife in your back

)inhale(

Fog on the mirror means

Give thanks

10/23/12

pain and pleasure
beauty is the glue that
holds them both together
each is an eye that
only sees part of the picture
together they
reveal all details
pain endures
pleasure fleeting
death in life
and life in death is
breathing

8/15/12

constant callibration
seeking balance
steps, one after another
headed toward a destination
a kind word
an unexpected response
escape into my headphones
par excellence
the dream continues
even when I'm awake
my sincerity seems fake
and these detours that I take
take me back to where I started
whereas the vision I have now is larger
sometimes I feel my batteries drained
and I'm lost without a charger
Youth pass me invincible and nubile
homeless men, recyclables on bicycles
and inside of me my inner child
won't stay dead or keep still
Love won't be denied
I can't hide for long
I stay strong in spite
of the fate that awaits us all
as we calibrate
seeking balance
steps, one after another
heading home

10/11/12

What it means to be decapitated by lunch count

Autumns lawns

Are central valley yellow

Yesterday’s stifling heat

Hoary with frost

Upon a dawn chilled windshield

Route 99 commute

Bobbing head to old wutang

As I enter school

I imagine feudalism

Chain mail, swords, and trebuchets

Pages, vassal lords, and crossbow quarrels

Why are we studying stem and leaf plots today?

Wouldn’t it be nice to smash into a solid line of infantry

With armored horses lances splintering on

Iron half helms and punching holes in

Plated steel

Fourth grade origami folding on Friday afternoon

Is the closest I will ever get to shogun war shrieks and

Arrow fletchery

Custer’s ass is smashed against my boot

Little bighorn shoved in his throat for emphasis

I took away a boy’s recess for lying on his chair

And pretending to fly

What’s wrong with me

When did I become this

Balding medieval vigilante?

Shooting ink stains with Shout

Dreaming of blazoned, heraldic silken tapestries

Draped over mortarless stone masonry

Thrust into place by humping avalanches

The call of muezzins from the minarets

Of vanished citadels overlapping

Concussive spirals of enveloping

Longing for Godliness

When will the white sails billow

And the horizon race toward my face

And the stars stretch into hyperspace

And the trapdoors beneath infinity’s libraries

Open to that final REAL adventure?

The blade’s edge is razor sharp

And I fear

It may have already severed

My head

I will

Wait

Waiting

I wait

Impatiently

For it to

Finally

Fall

off