Frabjous Times : Category sequence, everything about sequence

Exostruts

2008-08-14T21:25:01-05:00

gunplay

won’t matter

the tympanum ignores

we always knew

unchecked growth

destroys

camouflaged

tiptoe everywhere

sunlight punishes irresponsibility

hide your children

as instars

emerge

rustling

by coldlight

twice three legs

the manifest mystery

ever remains:

extinction

Grrrrr! by Mattnic on Zooomr

There and back again

2008-07-22T14:39:36-05:00

not

bother

to bring a

toothbrush, or a book –

it’ll be over sooner than that –

but you’ll want a camera and a box of postcards.

And when they bring the tray of drinks

and make you sit up,

make a scene!

They made

wait.

Virgin employees sit in the cabin of a prototype Virgin Galactic SpaceShipTwo spacecraft at the Science Museum on February 14, 2007 in London, England. The Virgin Galactic SpaceShipTwo is destined to be the first ever vehicle for space tourism. The SpaceShipTwo will carry six passengers and two pilots, offering a total flight time of 2 hours. Around 200 firm reservations have been placed already with projected flight costs estimated to be $200,000 per passenger.

Propulsion system for hybrid craft blows up

Specular reflections

2008-06-18T20:39:35-05:00

addressing

that sweet abyss:

“yes, yes”

shot full of holes, the substance of our dreams

Sklar, Gibson, and Yong –

their lungs full of

something grey…

floors turn into ceilings (halfway there)

still,

she had to go back…

the smell of burning hair

the purple ones are the girls, I think

there, boy, look!

that nebula there

that was your father

I count the stars; each one flares and dims

he tells her

“put on your other face,

the other”

flecked with hot sauce: angel wings, deep-fried

text, don’t write:

my senses have taken

leave of me

they took a risk. who remembers them?

the loudest prayer

ever said…

and it was answered

2008, the Year of Our Lords

2008-05-20T09:00:37-05:00

her fat melts away

not the way

she’d intended

bank manager’s desk: a sulphrous haze

as we had been told

our guns were useless,

useless

with rockstar teeth, your friend’s head swivels

pretty roomy inside

and she gets good

parsec-age

mall rat gawks: “that’s what cordwood’s like”

reunited

his strong arms…

that’s not my Daddy

Ninjutsu No Shoppingtown

2008-03-02T18:42:29-06:00

the wall of the Food Court - stars march up

inside the nail salon: Clan Jade Claws

perched dragon style: the loading dock sleeps

like water they part, Big and Tall Men

escalator down; the swish of bamboo

this septum-pierced punk - you too must fall

naked the sun shines… a lithe dark shape

Shrine of the Mall Ninjas (via)

The Wolf-Rayet beauty

2008-02-29T20:37:13-06:00

Hot?

Sure,

I’d say

that one’s hot -

entering a room

walls buckle, the lights shift to blue,

sensitive meat seismometers trace out pressure waves,

and spacetime folds bend to accommodate the incarnate representation of ‘hot.’

Hats off to my friend Ian whose comment suggested the image.

Suhail al Muhlif: The brightest O-type star and one of only four WR stars bright enoughto have been observed spectroscopically in UV by COPERNICUS.

The five stages of middle age

2008-01-26T10:02:14-06:00

I

Matisse,

in his forties,

was years before his peak.

So what’s the rush? I’ve still got loads

of time.

II

Bastard!

that young pipsqueak

doesn’t deserve that car.

I raced Mustangs when he played with

Hot Wheels.

III

Okay,

I’ll lose some weight,

and switch to light beer too.

I’ll show my old lady I’ve still

got it.

IV

Hang on,

maybe there’s a way.

If I could sell this place…

Dammit, what’s the use, who am I

kidding?

V

Ali –

he missed his chance

at gradual decay.

Strange to picture him living to

my age.

this machinery of grace

2007-12-29T23:55:07-06:00

an outer ring of heck

smelling of

strawberries

her hands full of cloud tissues of scorn

Lee’s redoubt

where dark lines find

their griefs multiply

an ounce of ash and that too soon gone

tender to the bone

our enemies

our hearts’ ease

how long this machinery of grace?

her life list:

a spidery red hand,

then nothing

the sea sucks at the rock… pink-flushed foam

first bacteria

then fungi

kiss their host

the coldest flame: we all wear our pyres