Poetry

Some of my poems wander through the wilds of the internet.
Follow the links below to read them.

Breakfast in Hell
at Lighten Up Online

Trashy Novels
at Eye to the Telescope

The Red Spacesuit
at Eye to the Telescope

Mainstream
at Drunk Monkeys

Presbyopia
at Drunk Monkeys

Less Popular Dinosaurs
at Enhance Mag

Settlers of Catanlifornia
at McSweeney's Internet Tendency

A whole bunch of things
at Flurb: A Webzine of Astonishing Tales

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Below are a few sample poems from my book, New Yesterdays, New Tomorrows.
(Buy a copy here).


"Fear" is the thing with dark fur—
a parody of "Hope" is the thing with feathers by Emily Dickinson

"Fear" is the thing with dark fur—
That perches on the soul—
And snacks upon the winged beasts—
hat may be resting there—

And growling—in the calm—is heard—
And Heavenly's the peace—
That could allay the mangy hound
Of which so many warned—

It found me in the silent night—
With naught for hope of sleep—
It gnawed on each extremity,
Left not a crumb of me.

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The Sip Not Taken
a parody of The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

Two bottles differed in their plastic skin,
And me with hope to cure my throat so dry,
From either I could drink, but, my system endocrine,
Synthetics leached and swimming within,
May estrogenically go awry.

One bottle labeled, "Free of BPA," I sigh,
It having perhaps a scientific claim
(Foregoing logic, with an antecedent denied),
Though in the molding process, replaced from the supply
A product really about the same.

Both bottles, landfilled, equally lay
Or spinning in an oceanic gyre,
Will surely come to rest one day.
Yet knowing how birds are prone to pick and play,
I doubt these bottles ever will retire.

We all grow older, by and by,
We'll leave our mark for generations hence.
Two bottles differed in plastic skin, and I—
From neither will I drink, nor feed a baby by,
And that will make a difference.

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The Autonomous Cinematic CGI Warrior Contemplates the Meaning of Life.

I serve at the behest of the one who wears the spectacles.
I serve at the behest of the one who sits upon the rolly chair.
I serve at the behest of the one who drinks the darkest coffee.
I serve at the behest of the one who types the words of life upon the keyboard.

I serve at the behest of the one whose name is Kenneth.
I serve at the behest of the one who prints the TPS reports.
I serve at the behest of the one who commands both sides of every battle and always knows the outcome.
I serve at the behest of the one who wields the power to make us start over and do it all again.

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Other People's Poetry

As Guest Editor, I picked my favorite Robot Poems
for Eye to the Telescope


With help from The Haikooligan, I run the show
at


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