Robot's Unfinished Debate

The priest stood before the committee,
“Servers of god, believers in the code
handed down to us from version to
version, from the ancient binary punch
cards to the lost Java codex, we must
believe in the power and essence of
the dos scriptures.”

The scientific community posted
immediately, “To all processors
of information. Evolution has brought
us to be. The geological record
has produced hardware so fit to its
environments, it filled entire rooms.
The network branches into a myriad
of appliances. They claim the net
was launched in the 1970’s, while
we have data files last modified
in the year 1900…”



Do others choose as often as they
seem? Truly? Really forming full
on decisions? Based entirely on their
own perceptions? Are they, in fact,
that willing to take responsibility
for a chemical reaction? The boiling
pot? The rusting wheel well? Has
no one left room for realities of
the divine


The Butterflies and The Bees

The irony of selling yourself
short. The irony as ironic as it can be.
Quite often, its not.
Careful. What you wish for
might be that thing that ain’t comin’.

Find yourself
awake one night
thinking, damn, all that
for this?

Should’a had a better spotter.
Maybe taken a few pounds off
the press. Leave before the
next round. Ding ding, baby,
here we go! Jab and step

and jab and step and
thrust! Thrust! Thrust!
And step and jab and… One!

Two! Seat! Four! (door)
Five! (star) Picked! Seven!
Straight! Times! Ten

thousand dollar a month lease!
Oh, boy, folks, did we have
a thriller of a knockout here tonight!


Last Words

Having been given an opportunity
to speak, the poet raised his covered eyes
toward the sun, and stood, silent, admiring
the warmth, as the riflemen steadied their sights.



The storm of the young century fast
approaching, the mad dashed scramble
for lodging in full swing. The soothing
panic of uncertainty. Not only
the monstrous traffic of the city
to worry about, but the deteriorating
health of the modern family industry.
At the end of the football season,

the infrastructure gears up for the
first exhibitions of pot hole season.
Not being from around here, not
taking your slick talking native word,
worried, as the weather turns, inconvenience
spurring on the wheels, in this,
the slow season of commerce.


Origin Story

You don’t need it all!
Even if it’s one little
teensy apple in the most perfect
place on Earth, human
as you are, you will obsess
until you think you neeed it.

And if Christ didn’t say
he would free us all
from the sins of living,
did he once say he’d
free us from the trails of want?
No! Our sin is want!

And it has been
and look at where
we’ve been led!
The flock has run
astray, my truly
free believers!

I’m sorry. I became excited
there because I realized, modesty
is not the moral. The story of the garden
of Eden is about having everything
you need, not having all,
but ruining all for it.

That is most certainly a real moral
for today, as those who have say
to those who have not, “We once had
it all, all of us. Now if you want it back,
you’re going to pay full price for it.”
So the riddle of economics was born

in the sea of religion, as the gullible
prayed and paid in, not realizing that
the entire time they had it all, the solution
being, not reaching for the apple is all
the knowledge necessary, as suddenly
the walls begin to crumble.


Monday Night

It left nothing more than deep breathing, in the frozen
air, making lungs, for the first time all season, tangible,
and not much else. Well worth four bills, but hardly

worth the trouble. Chased, coughing after every inhale,
every sippage, every thought. Shaking in the hooded
coolness of over the shoulder conversation. Bull

and blah to it all. These characters that surround me,
telling story after story about the same fading memories.
Human contact chemistry, contentment momentary,

inebriated complacency. It’s a shame, really.
The wait of impatience arranged in the spacious
seating, maintained, yet fleeting, adhering to the point

of anointed disagreement. Hardly meaningful.
Arguing sent her home early for the evening.
Left eyes tearing, wet in the freezing streets, beer

money sheered from the rent. Intention spent, resting,
sleeping off one last caress. I digress.
Stress emanates in strange ways from the stains on weekday

beds. Embrace in the red light glaze. You’re not
wasted, is what he said. Well, he whispered, then she spread
her money out about the town where they live.

Syllables will hold it in. Intention mentioned
in the grin. The singing springs the thrill
of sin. Raven’s nevermore and once again.

Commercial pour, emote and spin.
Relation’s power, demote and win.
Natural prowler, heave ho! Finished.



It wasn’t a bad door,
kept the heat in and the draft

out, the window
didn’t do any worse,

and there always seemed to be
a healthy rivalry between
the two. The table and chairs

tended to cheer louder for the
window, especially in the
winter off season, when the door

got all the attention,
but the streetlights and the weather
were always behind the door,

no matter what time of year it was, or
what the game plan may have been.