Proteus, the prototype human, was speaking with the radiant Evita when Archie, the archaeopteryx, traced out a semaphoric flight path as a warning. Lulled by the night-lit lumens of his own voice, Proteus ignored the ancient bird and continued with his exposition of the integers.
When solar rays were manifest,
Proteus had an inkling that his feeble wisdom
did not limit the world, and recognized
the twin subversions of his dreams,
ignorance and arrogance,
but the revelation came too late.
Hold on a sec.
Evita turned away,
and Proteus followed her gaze.
A newly formed creation was approaching
from the beach, an unexpected byproduct
of his boastful conversation.
Evita, Número Uno, admired Número Dos.
Oh, such frameable burning symmetry.
I have rhetorical questions concerning
proton fusion in the cores of stars,
Cool. I call myself Adamstown.
Número Dos was stripier than Evita,
but he certainly wasn’t stellar in any way.
That’s what Proteus told himself.
Evita and Adamstown looked to the sea,
looked to the sunrise,
and Evita turned to Proteus,
who was trying to count his toes.
I will keep you in my core,
where cooler fusion powers me.
You enabled my existence.
Adamstown was more succinct.
Ditto, dude. Later.
Their ionized auras flared, touched,
and they were gone from the land to the ocean,
skimming off its whiteness.
Proteus uttered a series of exclamation points,
and the nimble archaeopteryx narrowly avoided
a blowtorch defeathering.
- terrestrial (European++) magnetically confined fusion and the sun’s fusion powerhouse
- Adamstown and its denizens
- William Blake (1794) The Tyger reprise, previous
- more recycling of Jack Vance’s recycling of Homer, previous
x-ray coastline (part above). Made by VEE, the visual evolution engine.