creation

In a town named War, the Man exhaled into
the palm of his hand and declared Panic.
On a pothole of a planet, the monsters of my
briefest temptations will carry steel folding chairs.
For every stoic, there’s a frantic.

Isaiah’s first yawn was like
dropping a hockey puck into the maw
of an engorged wildebeest born into a reservoir
of city-wide sewage. The cracked earth’s cheers
for the rugby squad fills the streets.

I am a real heart-braker. Psybient Vince Vaughn
All-Threat Dub. whoa, slow your groin, He-Man,
you’re a Faker, your love of glowing eyes slippery
to the undernurtured. she’s a banshee, Pete;
set phasers on scrub.