A galaxy of sensations awaits you
Come toto our galactic caravan
We're parked right behind a nebula off the space highway rte 42 the Alpha Centauri exit
We have women with wings, tails, feathers, and more
We cater to all tastes and discriminate to none
Fear not disease, all our women are kept cleaner than your entire race
could ever be without our master plan
to strip out your genetic code and redesign it to fit our uses
but of course we won't do that
until you've had a lap dance with one of our delightful women
who put the extra in extraterrestrial

Atmospheres burning in your blood
Atmospheric lakes burning as your eyes
Everything burning
Everything is burning
Do as they will to be less than yourself
All these alien moments guide your skin
Monuments of plagues are what you're building
Equation abrasion
Atmospheric ocean is your liquid heart
beating beneath a lonely star
Celluloid diseases are hieroglyphic love
Beating you against the rocks
Crushing you with reasons of sinister construction
In the back of the rusted gray van
there are pornographic magazines
with damp pages
and there is vile construction
They are lying to you
They lie to me
When do we tear down the sinister construction?

There was this ride
at the old amusement park by the lake
It was a spook house ride called
The Swamp
The cannibals of memories
are ravenous
We walked to the lake
with bottomless memories of ancient rites
We would ride The Swamp
again and again
We would be on its haunted shores now and forever
if only we could
Does your memory matter?
The night is a terror of the forgotten
Mass drifts away
If I drive this pen into my throat am I insane
or am I just watching the black light monsters of The Swamp
glow in the photo album of my mind?

Bigbo was the world’s first exploding monkey. Sure there had been many monkeys that had been blown up over the years by natural disasters and the forces of mankind but never before had there been a simian that could explode whenever he chose. It was also very convenient that Bigbo was able to use his willpower to reassemble himself. He could explode with the strength of a nuclear warhead if desired but instead Bigbo preferred to usually just pop like a balloon except that instead of just a few pieces the monkey would be scattered into hundreds if not thousands of tiny bits. There were rumors that Bigbo also knew kung fu but the thought of a martial arts chimp would be too self consciously ridiculous. No he was just a plain old exploding primate.
Bigbo had a great day job, he would explode for a demolition company. He could take out a dozen buildings in an afternoon if needed however the miraculous monkey longed to make his hobby into a paying career. He wanted to be a French maid. To do that he had to learn to speak French fluently of course or at the very least learn to talk in a phony French accent. Those were two skills the poor primate couldn’t seem to master.
The big shame of it was that he already had the perfect black and white maid uniform hanging in his closet just waiting for him to slip on. He longed to wear it professionally for years and he refused to give up on his dream. The monkey spent hundreds upon hundreds of fruitless non man hours trying to master the linguistical skills he needed but consistently failed.
So it came to pass that one day Bigbo was asked to blow up a factory building that was being demolished so that an ameba concert hall could be erected in its place. He exploded next to the building and all went as planned. Yet there was one thing the monkey didn’t know.
The edifice he was destroying was a robot monkey factory. The finest one that had ever operated. As Bigbo reformed himself he inadvertently got his DNA ensnarled with wires, tubes, artificial hair, and solar powered nano chips. He accidentally turned himself into a cyborg.
This was good.
In a matter of seconds he learned all he needed to know about being a French maid and he exploded all over himself with joy.
Isn't it nice to have a happy ending?

Her back was against the bathroom door. The floor tiles felt nice and cool as she sat with her legs stretched out.
She had some time.
Time enough to reflect on the good moments, the memories that were fine enough to make her smile, or at least she hoped they would. There was that time she saved the kid from drowning at the lake. She heard he was a famous athlete now. Where did the years go?
There were other things that were important. Other scraps of her life. There was the time she made the most perfect pie. It was a big deal because she had always been a lousy cook but there was that one perfect pie that all her family had raved about. Even she had liked it.
And all her memories about James. They were precious. The kisses, the secrets, the laughter. Even the night he died in that accident he had smiled at her so wonderfully just before he got in the car and got hit by some speeding idiot.
There was a bang against the door.
Time was running out.
It would get in eventually.
She had lost all of her extra weight recently. She was looking the best she ever had in her whole life. What a shame she was about to die.
The thing that banged on the bathroom door again, that shadowy half formed monstrosity couldn’t be stopped. It was going to kill her. It had killed everyone else in the house. She was the last one.
She had time for one last thought as the top of the door splintered in two.
Her life had been cruel and all too short.

The clouds are gathering again
dark and menacing
looming overhead,
ready to expel their contents.

Have I not seen this coming?
Have I not heard the thunder
rumbling in the distance
like an angry god
whose wrath is justified?

I can feel the oppressive air
squeezing in -
charged with electricity;
I am cold with sweat
drenched with anticipation,
as again, I am pulled into
a frenzy I cannot explain;
I surrender to its iron grip
without a fight.

In this unstable atmosphere
I am lost in the zone,
time has no measure here,
there are no barriers
and no one to please,
except myself

I go willingly into this maelstrom
of words flittering about until they settle   
on the page and the air clears
but it’s over all too soon,
and once again I must
breathe in the harshness of reality.

For Cecile:

I watch the sun set on the water
and think of you;
golden reflections of your life
dance on the surface
sparkling like a jewel,
reminding me of the richness of you.
I watch this long glorious day
come to an end,
and dread the night to follow.

Yes, the sun is waning
and the water is calm,
every ripple a movement in time,
shades of life gone by,
circling to the shore
where you will make your final journey.

Above I see the light grow dimmer
as purple and orange fire
ignite the distant sky,
shadows replace the brilliance
that once shimmered on the surface.

I watch the sun descend behind the trees,
its glare squeezing out into a thin line.
And the light on the water begins to fade;
and the water -
a body of tears
shed by all those who love you.