102919e

I sat down to write a poem based on tomorrow's Inktober prompt, which is catch. I found myself compelled to write a flash story instead, the first in five or 10 years. I have already sent it off to be rejected. So I guess all of this is a good thing.

102919

Injury

the last cut is

deepest, or the deepest last

what matters is now

under the roots

your crossed arms hold the heart in

the whole world’s flying

Inktober 29

102819b

Freeloaders

This piggy has 5000 fleas

They live on and they ride it

Each flea is home to trillions of

Bacteria inside it

Prokaryotes, albeit small

Aswarm with genes from viruses

So it’s a wonder our fat pig

Who's burdened with such multitudes

Can keep its feet, hold up its head

And doesn’t simply drop down dead.

Inktober 28th: ride

102719

Sortie

I miss the televised spacewalks;

the new spray-on suits

don’t make a good seal with fabric,

remember poor Chen?

And you have to shave,

it’s like a full-body gas mask.

You can only show that on TV

in Sweden and the Nederlands.

Too bad,

it would have made an activity

that is inherently boring to watch,

at least marginally stimulating.

Inktober: coat

102519

Dizzy

Powered by a micro-Hole,

The station began to wobble;

Broken loose, the Hole

Swirled spacetime

Like an etheric smoothie,

Jones on her roller skates,

Distal-ring flying,

Wove a drunken pretzel,

While proximal rings spaghettied,

Into the Hole’s black heart.

Still beyond the surface of no return,

She thumbed her suit on,

Took a crazy arc outward,

And cranked her throttles.

The shuttle was right there,

And there oughta be a cool trillion,

In her private numbered account.

102319d

Ancient

I’ve reached the age

of my great aunt,

when I first knew her,

she, whose brother forced her to marry

an Israeli who soon left her;

we didn’t speak

to his part of the family

til my uncle’s wedding,

born before airplanes, born before my century,

she sold hats,

and the kinds of clothes

we thought were for dress-up;

people wore hats, etc.,

in old movies,

and old photos,

not real life.

102319

after the flash

the shadow of a boy

on the wall

102019

Tread

I met a woman on the stair,

Chalk white of face, with raven hair,

I wish to God she was not there,

I missed my tread, her form so fair,

And now I’m falling through the air,

This fall may end, I don’t know where,

She’s smiling now, her fangs laid bare,

That vampiress upon the stair.

101819d

Bling

It hangs from the tree,

Amid light blink,

And silver ice flash,

Gumdrops and striped canes,

Corny chains, balls of glass,

And this, but it’s the

Wrong season for a heart,

Even one still beating.

101719e

This is the End

night seeps down

cold stars huddle

against the wilderness of time

protons pop silently

void gone wild

101519d

Legend

Yellow square. Eastern kingdom

Blue square. Western kingdom

White square. Wall of ice

Black triangle. Mount of fire

Orange square. Land of the Centaurs

Green square. Where the hill trolls dwell

Pink stars. Portals to Faerie

Black circles. Goblin caves

Red square. Here there be dragons

101519c

Overgrown

Bush-hogging the old road

near where Doc’s place used to be,

B4 his last expt went south,

and something got loose

in the weeds:

I guess a 30-foot dandelion isn’t that unusual,

but when you hit an ant

the size of a horse,

you feel it!

101319b

Ash

The fires of Earth have burned their tinder through,

No ruddy gold to flicker in the mirk,

The fleeting things have gone to ground or died,

In deserts yet a ragged remnant lurks,

Cassandra’s warning has been proven true,

Deniers perished by their handiwork,

Suicide enabled by their pride,

Their cities drowned by seas no longer blue.

The Earth is dead, long live the Earth again,

For deep inside the biomes yet may thrive,

Bacteria and tardigrades a new

World order make and may evolve to prove,

Intelligence adaptive can become,

And reach for stars that were too far for men.

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

101019c

Swing and pattern

Inkober 9 and 10--in words

What I learned from my dad--a brief rengay

under the swings
are scattered brown cubes
limonite

vein makes a beeline
across the county

in Utah
limonite cubes ring a hill
thanks Dad

100619c

From the latest Inktober prompt ("husky"), since I can't draw

Her voice gave him a thrill

How did such a small woman

Manage that husky growl?

When she coughed up a shoe

He saw that it wasn’t empty

A different thrill

101118b

Inktober
I write haiku
to the graphic prompts