A car the color of the sunset disappears around a corner, the sky recalls a long-ago metropolis, and films of rain are shining on the concrete and the bitumen, the bushes and the trees.
I think about what I’ve done and what I will, and wonder where’s the sun? Am I any closer to it?
The skyward myths, the poppy-field poets, have vanished, the inexpressible has evanesced above the tar pits like the long-lost Brachiosauridae, and in the cities, all that’s left is Amazon and online dreams.
“You know Rodney, you’re just a hanger-on, a waste of space, time, and air.”
She never got my name right, but I knew where she was coming from. I was her ghost companion, a Dapto tourist information brochure for an interstellar traveler— unnecessary and pointless in every way.
Beyond the glass, the water birds are gliding on the rails of rain, and, for a moment, their distant pattering melody recalls a semblance of another chance at hopefulness—even with the knowing that it’s far too late for all of that.
The imagined is ordinary, the signifiers of what lies beyond were long ago ground away to the commonplace, applied to pedantry and potatoes, lost in the semantic sea.
The Purpose of Reality, illustrated short stories and poetry from Meerkat Press. They’ve had some pretty fair reviews from Publishers Weekly and the like. Now available to order on Amazon, and at other outlets. Purchase, review, and other info here.
Location, location, location,
the realtor’s dream of sifting
through the time stream’s rows
of single bed room nights
in the company of shades and shadows,
and never lost in someone else’s thoughts.
Unlike the solitary dreams of sleep, reality is common ground, a place where we share with one another, and intertwine the other kind of dreams: our plans, hopes, and visions for the future. That is the purpose of reality.
My Purpose of Reality books from Meerkat Press, illustrated poetry and short stories, are now available, with pretty fair reviews from Publishers Weekly and the like. Reviews, purchase, and other info here.
The rain was running late, still pattering
on the muddy puddles of the city sky,
and the street was smeared with cloud
star-ridden with mercury lamps—
a world as dreary as long-lost
infatuation, as a friend’s anger,
as empty jealousy.
Like a moth attracted
to the flickers of fluorescent lights,
I chose a frayed café where
my dairy-whitened instant coffee
with artificial sweetener
—all its chemical delights—
put me in the writing mood.
Previously on Blade Walker: the earth is inhabited by extraterrestrials, who are minding the planet after humans failed in their duty of care. Blade Walker (human) and Alícia (alien) are having coffee at one of the Café Économique franchises. The first episode is here.
It was all the usual at the Café:
an earthenware urn of tired umbrellas,
sprouting branches and plastic flowers,
tattered pigeons hoping for a snack;
at the other tables, Saurons sipping bluegas,
the odd Solarian, naturally luminous,
and sentient crustacea on a break
from breaking crockery.
I read a little of “Howe to Writte”
by someone called Blade Walker:
Do not write about yourself, you might scribble regrettable revelations: poisonous reflections of venomous memory, elaborations of fears unfounded, of solitude without solace.
Previously on Blade Walker: the earth is inhabited by extraterrestrials, and humans are an endangered species. Blade Walker (human) and Alícia (alien) have been freed from mind-controlling insects by an electromagnet in Rick’s scrapyard. The previous episode is here.
Alícia was always herself,
and now I was me again as well,
following my path of faux pas.
But I wasn’t a shallow as I used to be,
because I had a secret.
Previously on Blade Walker: the earth is inhabited by extraterrestrials, and humans are an endangered species. Blade Walker (human) and Alícia (alien) have escaped a sinkhole and a swarm of enormous wasps. Now thousands of tiny magnetic insects on their heads are attempting to control them. Here are episodes one, two and three.
The silvery insectile helmet suited Alícia.
“My mind is strong enough to deal with the insects.
Your mind … well, it’s anybody’s guess.
Just try to ignore any foreign desires.”