011521

 

looking for wings

but my scaled friend has none

no flaming breath

042520d

Sami's dragon



wasn't much trouble
wingless, white, and blind
cave dragons make good pets
but Blanco (I know, I didn't name her)
developed a taste for beef
Sami fed her half of each hamburger
at the family cookouts
just across the backyard fence
the cow pasture was full of black and white dinner
at sundown the cows bedded down
Blanco tunneled under the fence
hunted by sense of smell
ate everything
including bones and hooves
quite a while before Farmer Jones
noticed the herd came up short
nobody suspected the poor blind dragon
even though she had tripled in size
over the past few months
motion activated cameras
revealed to the awful truth
Blanco had used up Sami's allowance
for the next 37 1/2 years

041220

The Shadow Over Ed's House

There had been something funny about the egg,

and the chick, when it hatched that May,

had grown monstrous fast,

but it wasn't Ed's fault about the old lady's dog,

and he’d waited till the neighborhood kids

were indoors playing video games,

or at camp, before he let it out.

After it ate the dog,

it wouldn’t come back in,

not even for a porkchop,

and he’d see it now and again,

at the edge of the woods,

by the garbage cans,

once, on the Waltons’ roof

(and how’d it get up there?),

always keeping its distance.

But now,

                   now,

there was a shadow, broad and long,

moving fast across the lawn,

something too big to be a hawk,

high up, silhouetted by the sun,

and he’d counted the kids twice

since the end of camp,

but still hadn’t seen Sally,

or the freckled kid

from the next street over,

but maybe they just hadn’t returned yet,

from wherever they’d gone.

It seemed a bit late now

to tell the authorities what he knew,

so he got his dad’s old .22,

staked 20 pounds of raw meat

under the crabapple,

and watched from thick undergrowth

where the back yard met the trees:

it was past time to put this baby down.

Something rustled in the wood.

032420c

for me!? she squealed
the jeweled dragons of Nox
bite hard and chew

032220

I see that it is supposed to be almost 90°F by the end of the week. This is March. We have already hit 80°F. Good thing there is no such thing as climate change!

In other news, I made a very cool discovery about the voice recognition software I use, Dragon naturally speaking. In the old days, the headphones would only work with the program while they were not plugged into the charger. I always had to be careful to not allow the battery to run down. I discovered by accident this weekend that the version of Dragon I have now works with Windows 10 (recently installed on this computer) in such a way that I don't ever have to unplug the headphones. I never have to charge the. So far this is the only good thing I know about Windows 10, but it is a great one.

122519d

Sure, the dragon queen consumed her last human, a princess brave and young. The flower of the north perished to avenge her, but in the end, the sky was free of dragons' wings. None remained of that bright kindred. Their hollow bones rotted into legend, and out of science, out of history.

122419d

some of St. George's
mounted heads look so fresh
wisp of smoke

101319

For Inktober Friday & Saturday

Winter’s Cold Heart

a lunegay

winter stirs at the

cave’s dark mouth

a pure puff of white

burnt-metal stench manifests

louring clouds brighten briefly

something beats against

bone chill wind

shadow wanes and swells

out of the wrack a

dopplered scream

the blood-spattered field

in blowing snow something moves

amber glint blinks much too close

riding against the

snow dragon

bones for the spring melt

092819c

Started Small

Maizie ate two and killed another

before I noticed they weren't bats:

long tail, scales, membranous wings;

she caught and killed two more,

I found the shells of six eggs

inside the wall, broken siding,

one found its way outside.

Saw it now and then,

finch to cardinal to crow size,

then, for a while, nothing;

moved on, been eaten, shot?

Kinda missed it for a while,

till I found Maizie's skeleton picked clean,

carnivore scattered in the back yard.

Neighbor was over Sunday morning,

asking about her missing lab;

haven't seen it or the old lady since,

big shadows moving, not with the wind,

I'll be OK long's the critter

can't tear open the Fiesta

or come through the plate-glass window.

061319c

Scales up against the window
the house is shaking
with all that scraping
and through the peephole
I see part of an eye
when I called 911
about a dragon
they just hung up on me
help me, radio call-in show
you're my only hope!

030219b

a cave full

of hungry bears and sheep bones

no dragon

012319b

the dragon could turn into anything
and it did, whatever it needed to be
this worked for such a long time
bbut one day it found itself on the run
stymied at every turn
and when the hunters had it at bay
it turned into a ceramic dragon
ceramic dragons can't turn into anything
except paperweights

121418b

the old worm squeezing
the planet
and devouring its own aboral parts
dislodged, floated free
became a moon
glaring down
at its erstwhile home

040918

a digestive
irregularity of dragons
asbestos walls

040718

the ceramic
dragon blinks
or did it

092817b

So congested my voice-rec software doesn't recognize me.

you said launch the missiles
no!
of course they'll go
argh!
I pick the Ace of Spades

except for me it's endless repetition of

sorry, please repeat that

051817

The Arrow of Morning

Mist rises from dewy grass, sun breaks out of the hills,

and far off, so remote I am not sure I really see it,

a flash of gold blinks in the sky.

I drop the basket of eggs and run,

scooping my sister with one hand,

heart pounding and head down.

At the door of the shelter I turn:

I have never seen a dragon before.

The sheep thunder towards the trees

but I see only hunger,

diving for its breakfast.

Elise squirms out of my hand but I cannot move.

The great wings whip open with the loudest noise I've ever heard,

talons grasp a small ewe and it is rising, rising,

flapping heavily, trailing smoke,

scales so bright I am almost blinded.

Already it dwindles with distance, laboring towards its

crag-bound nest where hatchlings peep like chicks.

Some day, I will climb those mountains.

Some day, I will be the arrow of morning.

Publ. Mythic Delirium 5, 2001

122916c

The Fires of Heck

Ants swarm the cake dish;,

it’s the queen’s birthday:

nothing too good,

no risk too great.

The papier-mache dragon,

on guard from the mantle

belches wood pulp,

which they ignore.

Dragon dreams a fairy, blue,

wants real flesh,

and a prehensile tongue,

teach the vermin a lesson,

and then take flight.

071316d

The Lair

Much deeper underground its breath is strong,

Beneath our feet brown bones to powder burst,

While tarnished exoskeleta of brass

And steel in nooks and narrow crannies lie,

The House Dragons

always go for
Alice B. Toklas brownies
they're flying