relentless dreaming
i feel like harlan ellison
or harry harrison
or jack vance/bradbury/asimov/heinlein
caricature and crux
on baited breath, radar screen and laser beam
just without the nebulaes
hugos
lifetime achievement medals
dime priced novellas
grey hairs
galaxy wide exposition
to plant the story
without the saturns
venus
mercury
io
titan
martian birth
all of my protagonists never grew up
i write what i know about, i find a certain kind of shelter
but who are you standing at the doorway knob
trying your best to play a stranger
i've seen you at the library, mausoleum, cemetary
sniffing wormridden paperbacks
and sideways glances at the smoking
hirsute silken scent of the librarian
everyone's watching
but we all fail to notice
you, like me, trapped on the lunar colony
making passes at the
less than zero gravity
in our minds, and in our pants
you turn the page
complete the dance
she is relentlessly dreaming today,
oblivious both to the offered cocktail
the sweltering heat, the spilled liquer
the meet and greet of the teenage boy
asking, in concert, with a friend
to synchronize
do you have keats/yeats/shelley
making passes
at the lass wearing glasses
eyes barely visible purple
contant to lounge inescapably
in the robert e howard daydream
an edgar rice burroughs in an elbow
a corner of the attic
without the dust free cover jacket
plastic binder
they fall apart discarded among
bill james 1987 abstract
north american mushroom hunters guide
romanian translation of rabbit, run
i mean, it might've just as well been nazis
whose zealous work at least shows passion
and commitment and to rebel is to make yourself white rose famous
and to sleep at night
but the boys in the window
walking the catacomb ledge
that divides the memories
by anachronistic dewey decimal code
the boys in the window are dying
their hands pressed firm against
the rocket's doorway hatch
as if a gas, inside, is slowly
asphyxiating
but no one notices.
well she does.
but she doesn't know what to do.
beyond laying lipstick impressions
that cause the page to simply disintegrate
wondering if anything got through
stronger than radio, you know
but cursed like sisyphus
i am relentlessly dreaming in the afteroon
making confusions
raising derelictions
feeling, or just justifying, like so many deadbeats
the actions of the dreamer, misfit, daedelus
measuring each thought not by ulyssean ideals
but by the jet pack certainties
of verne and wells
relentless dreaming in the afternoon
feeling like harlan ellision
but with nothing to show
or harry harrison
or jack vance/bradbury/asimov/heinlein
caricature and crux
on baited breath, radar screen and laser beam
just without the nebulaes
hugos
lifetime achievement medals
dime priced novellas
grey hairs
galaxy wide exposition
to plant the story
without the saturns
venus
mercury
io
titan
martian birth
all of my protagonists never grew up
i write what i know about, i find a certain kind of shelter
but who are you standing at the doorway knob
trying your best to play a stranger
i've seen you at the library, mausoleum, cemetary
sniffing wormridden paperbacks
and sideways glances at the smoking
hirsute silken scent of the librarian
everyone's watching
but we all fail to notice
you, like me, trapped on the lunar colony
making passes at the
less than zero gravity
in our minds, and in our pants
you turn the page
complete the dance
she is relentlessly dreaming today,
oblivious both to the offered cocktail
the sweltering heat, the spilled liquer
the meet and greet of the teenage boy
asking, in concert, with a friend
to synchronize
do you have keats/yeats/shelley
making passes
at the lass wearing glasses
eyes barely visible purple
contant to lounge inescapably
in the robert e howard daydream
an edgar rice burroughs in an elbow
a corner of the attic
without the dust free cover jacket
plastic binder
they fall apart discarded among
bill james 1987 abstract
north american mushroom hunters guide
romanian translation of rabbit, run
i mean, it might've just as well been nazis
whose zealous work at least shows passion
and commitment and to rebel is to make yourself white rose famous
and to sleep at night
but the boys in the window
walking the catacomb ledge
that divides the memories
by anachronistic dewey decimal code
the boys in the window are dying
their hands pressed firm against
the rocket's doorway hatch
as if a gas, inside, is slowly
asphyxiating
but no one notices.
well she does.
but she doesn't know what to do.
beyond laying lipstick impressions
that cause the page to simply disintegrate
wondering if anything got through
stronger than radio, you know
but cursed like sisyphus
i am relentlessly dreaming in the afteroon
making confusions
raising derelictions
feeling, or just justifying, like so many deadbeats
the actions of the dreamer, misfit, daedelus
measuring each thought not by ulyssean ideals
but by the jet pack certainties
of verne and wells
relentless dreaming in the afternoon
feeling like harlan ellision
but with nothing to show