Wayward Hair

I was in love with,

my wayward hair then,

and so was he.

I would think,

looking in the mirror,

I am the Earth Mother.

“Oh damn,

I’ve got pillowface.”

I’d often remark.

I don’t care,

what face it is,

as long as it’s yours.

What if I had

the face of the walrus?

I’d ask him next.

I would be your

Koo koo ka choo

Or your carpenter.

As long as you don’t hammer

in the morning or at suppertime.

Really, anytime it’s inconvenient.

Dearest, you know

I’d bang you anytime

day or night.

I loved him

our morning routine

and my wayward hair.

When bad plots happen

Scientists have created

a trust potion,

an advertising promotion.

“Just smile, because

you know,

they’re making love.”

No, fuck you.

I know what they’re

up to. And to be honest,

without being rude, they’re

trying to control when and with

whom, we can be nude.

Odd but true, think of

the economic situation

of a monogamous relation.

What you’re thinking is correct,

we do love cheesy endings. They

should be a choice though

and not the way.

We don’t need no Number 9.

Now and forever we don’t need

no thought control.

In sickness and in health,

take your stimulus package

And rock the recession. With our one

and only weapon left, emotion.

Seasonal Affect

When it rains precipitation is at

100% and it pours though

not exactly pouring weekly as

sprinkling, drizzling, and misting daily.

It’s scattered storms and partly cloudy.

Dark with a chance of light.

My average highs have become

record lows and there’s

a small chance, 30% or so, of

good weather and sunny feelings,

a 75% chance of stormy thoughts,

dark imagery, and gallows humor as

things are no longer light and

variable. There is a severe chance

of  thunder and a flash of lightening.

Soon the local on the eights

will show my head blowing

N by NW at 108 miles per hour.

Keep The Lights On

    

I.

Tesla refused to have sex his entire life.

His sexual frustration

powering new discoveries.

His human chemistry replaced

by a body sung electric.

His high potential charging

in between the gates that separate

the coiled recesses of his mind

                        II.

Edison approaching the deadline

tries out design after design.

He knows it’s coming down to

the wire his desire to stay current

resists his  resignation at his lack

of innovation.

                        III.

As he slumps in his chair

a flash of lightening  illuminates

the child’s toy bobbing and weaving

like a butterfly about to be stung by a bee.

Promethean Franklin sparks new ideas

using the right key and filament he can 

pass the torch to the next,

he becomes the fuse for future

generations to stick their two cents in

completing the circuit.

                        IV.

Gilbert Hackathorne pockets the pennies

he finds. It insulates him from the power,

he keeps going and going surging through

life even though a fuse and man, can

burn out after extended use. After plugging in

the future, monitor lights up with the Electrician

at Corning.That same night a colorblind

technician  chains lightening together

with gray wires, frustration, and spare change.