Proteus, the prototype human, speaks with glowing shapes, not sounds. His words created the charming and luminous plasmoid Evita, and unexpectedly, her companion, Adamstown. Now they’ve eloped, and only Proteus and his silent companion, Archie, are left. Archie is an archaeopteryx who enables soliloquies. The scene is the usual Jurassic jungle.
By my words alone, I will generate
the necessities of modern life.
Behold, when I say “lightbulb,”
a lightbulb appears.
The shape that sprang from his mouth
was not unlike an unsuccessful balloon twisting
of a micro-sized baboon, but Proteus was pleased,
having no idea what a lightbulb might be.
Archie, who thought the curious entity
looked rather tasty, snaffled it up
and swallowed it.
After his success with domestic lighting,
Proteus couldn’t help but think about Evita,
who had inverted all his dreams.
Although she’s far away and formed
from ionized plasma, I will find her,
and bring her home to me.
Adamstown, who took her from me,
is striped from head to tail,
so I will boldly knit myself
a comparable sweater
with matching scarf and beanie.
And since the weather’s turning chilly,
I’ll fashion it from wool.
But first off, I’ll need sheep.
Proteus spoke the “sheep” word,
exhaling fluorescent filaments that wove the air,
and unsure of a sufficiency of “sheep,”
he went on and on, falling asleep,
continuing in his dreams,
murmuring their name.
the plasmoid Adamstown