Playing Ketchup


Eyes hypnotized, the hoodwinked
come online in flutter blink.

Mocked, the mogul in send up
soaks everything in ketchup.
Jackdaw caws and caterwauls,
plates ended by shatter wall.

All bad–horseback post for weeks–
cornered he geckers and shrieks:
like never before | discontent,
but never shall I be impotent,

for godlike is my sunglow sheen—
skin like beta-carotene.

*[ WSB ].


Increment |Eko|



*[ WSB ].


Nightfall |Biter|

Veiled teal:
stars wheel.

*[ WSB ].


Revel |Trier|

Drink the wine !
Dance in time !
Joy be thine !

*[ WSB ].


Flatworm |Quarter|

with no tube in—
side is for all
gas diffusion.

*[ WSB ].


Glass Eye |Fiver|

Bill “the Butcher’s” glass
eye brings quivers stark,
from the knife-tip glance
on the crystal arc—
peal: an icy trance.

*[ WSB ].


Cubism |Sixy|

Mr Boxx’s head is
a cubical graph, a
rhombic hexahedron.
Six square pyramids hide
in eleven nets flat—
so square among boxes.

*[ WSB ].


Tirukkua Rules |Septer|

Couplets on morality
and ethics form the vision:
Tamil book for India.
The spear of bloodletting rests
for the staff of righteousness.
The kingdom withers under
the baton of submission.

*[ WSB ].

The Witch |Ahter|


The crone in her hovel alone
chants by fire crackling under plants
and parts, once having hearts and bones.
Cackles ring from circled incants
of bewitched verses stitched in skin.
The chemic cauldron smokes splenic:
the din stops, the goddess steps—yin
drawn white in the Yule dawn scenic.

*[ WSB ].

Cosmic Plato |Niner|

platonic solids

Stabbing heat of the tetrahedron,
the stars blaze. Tessellation of ground,
the hexahedron squares against water’s
icosahedral flow. The Wind’s round
cheeks breathe miniscule octahedrons
across the compass rose. Beyond the
lapis vault, the constellations rest
in dodecahedrons of darkness.
All is protracted geometry.

*[ WSB ].


Eden |Dasher|

The living clay moistened with saliva
surveys the garden planted midst desert
and mountains, the misty morning sylvan.
Spider webs of neurons weave in response,
glyphs on the melted wax: the human script.
Primal fruit tempts this offshoot of phyla
despite the pine seeds and acorns peppered
cross the fertile soil graced by four rivers.
Subtle, the serpent waits with scales of bronze—
hominids break from paradise eclipsed.

*[ WSB ].

The Sea |Hender|


Ocean followed the molten planet orange,
cooling darker to end in blackest basalt:
the basin. The hissing vapor encircles,
then falls torrential upon the smoking world;
aftermath: the empty primordial sea,
soon to be teeming with specimens of life.
Far out to sea, far below sun: the abyss
harbors ebony pools mythic with monsters,
underlings of the dragon goddess of old.
Near the waves, fish doff plates of armor, swimming
streamlined above the coral branches spreading.

*[ WSB ].

First Light |Duodenur|


Three hundred thousand kilometers per second:
the distant sky imparts the past: sunshine in eight
minutes; Betelgeuse may have flashed super nova
and bloomed nebular under six hundred forty-
two years. Run the clock backwards and the cosmos shrinks
smaller until the whole universe is a star
for seventeen minutes. Hydrogen forms, fuses
into helium, gamma radiation trapped.
The white-hot, dense plasma continues to expand,
cool until three hundred thousand years after the
Big Bang, when light shone, and space became transparent.

*[ WSB ].


Rollercoaster |Treader|

Relentlessly chain clinking to the coaster’s apex,
tightening the gut in preparation for the plunge
when the grapnels of gravity slingshot the thrill ride
headlong toward the singularity in the void,
centered in the starkness of chaos huggermugger
ever waiting the wheels to roll slower to a crawl,
an end like the beginning of the climb to the prime
at the precipice of the tallest parabola:
a bittersweet moment teetering with potential
for g-force helixes and hairpins and barreling
over tracks of amplitude in adrenaline rush;
realizing however, from the start of the ride
that mechanical friction dooms all machines to stall.

*[ WSB ].



Motion is Relative |Fourteener|

Race toward the Western rim and the sun will rise again;
faster: gravity and day will fall behind the raw night
comprised of billions of bygone days darkened by distance —
circadian clocks tick to the calculus of motion.
The Earth with debonair tilt waltzes the changeable moon,
unsettled in unbalance from an impingent outset;
day and night, and the wheel of the seasons offer context.
The grand, seeming quietness of galaxies swirl in space-
time, the fabric unfurled quicker and quicker by darkness
from a quantum source of infinite turmoil, uncertain.
Meaning exists in eddies at the edges of chaos
where sentience manages to emerge from the looking-glass
particles, a floodplain stasis after a white-water
onslaught from a furious spring into cosmic offshoots.


The Grasslands |Fifteener|


Grass carpets continents one fifth the blueprints current the drift
in naps: tropical, temperate, and tundra; flooded, zeric
and montane; grasslands various didst spread to end Cretaceous
—sundry graminoids dotted by sedge, rushed to the forest edge—
[buffalo, blue brush, red oat; purple needle, lemon, and Rhodes]
the drumming hooves heard mutually, with the upping of herbs.
Lo the buffalo ruffled low, snuffling clumps from undersnow,
tallgrass in loess and till, nitrogen from the urine spilled;
bands of pronghorns, prairie-born, munch scrub until the white rump warns.
And grassy-sand springboks prong, and lope shrubland in harem throngs,
while the tommie gazelles sail through shimmer of wildebeest trails,
and galloping Great Steppes, pangaré takhis with buzzcut necks.
Forsooth. Cranes wade swamp blades, as sharp-tooth gators slide Everglades.
Beyond the fence the moocows moo, grazing green pastures like gnu
blue numbers on savanna midst brays of wavering zĕbra.

*[ WSB ].

autograph this


One night I was sitting with friends at a table in a crowded Key West bar. At a nearby table, there was a mildly drunk woman with a very drunk husband. Presently, they woman approached me and asked me to sign a paper napkin. All this seemed to anger her husband; he staggered over to the table, and after unzipping his trousers and hauling out his equipment, said: “Since you’re autographing things, why don’t you autograph this?” The tables surrounding us had grown silent, so a great many people heard my reply, which was: “I don’t know if I can autograph it, but perhaps I can initial it.”


Truman Capote

*[ WSB ].

The End is Near


I    plan to donate my physical remains
[the sole remains] for medical research;
my one reservation ?: the lack of summation
on a crumbling tombstone for passers by
to read and partake in glancing puzzlement
of the sentence between the parentheses,
the period before the final period
that definitively endmarks the document—
the character of the protagonist captured.
Minus engraving on monument or memorial;
my epitaph for your consideration:

This is Only a Text.

Failed to find a loophole:
maybe a wormhole ?

Wait !
this is a black hole.

[Test card inserted]

Beyond Event Horizon
      Please Stand By

*[ WSB ].


Flouropolymer 45

The false obituaries,
reports of demise grossly exaggerated:

‘John McCain not a war hero’ [because he was captured (POW)]
Skips the Fox News debate [Megyn Kelly asked pointed question       concerning misogyny]
Grab ’em by the pussy tape [case in point]
Hurricane Dorian projection Sharpie-gate [weather map altered to prove       Bama could be slammed]
Impeachment [acquitted on two articles of impeachment: abuse of power       and obstruction of Congress]
Drink bleach [for Covid]
January 6th [criminal referrals including conspiracy to defraud the federal       government; obstruction of an official proceeding, in this case Congress’       certification of electoral votes; conspiracy to make a false statement; and       inciting or assisting those in an insurrection]
2nd impeachment [acquitted on single article of impeachment: incitement       of insurrection against the U.S. government and lawless action at the       Capitol] *TeflonLogo

TEFLON. [So far]

Until the electorate cares, and inters
the blaring bullhorn of demagoguery.

* List not all inclusive, just highlights of a plethora of scandals, exposés, outrages, and norm breaking.

*[ WSB ].

Death is a Star



nd I was gripped by that deadly phantom;
I followed him through hard jungles
as he stalked through the back lots,
strangling through the night shades.
O the thief of life
moved onwards and outwards to love.

In a one-stop only motel
a storm bangs on the cheapest room.
The phantom slips in to spill blood,
even on the sweetest honeymoon.
The killer of love
caught the last, late Niagara bus.

By chance or escaping from misery,
by suddenness or in answer to pain,
smoking in the dark cinema—
see the bad go down again.

And the clouds are high in Spanish mountains;
and a Ford roars through the night full of rain.
The killer’s blood flows,
but he loads his gun again.
Can make a grown man cry like a girl
to see the guns dying at sunset.

In vain, lovers claimed
that they never had met.
Smoking in the dark cinema,
see the bad go down again.


Joe Strummer;
     Mick Jones

*[ WSB ].

Tom Cruise.


Running in movies since 1981.
Tom cruises
           Just keep running
                                                  as long as you can
hitting those marks with clear intensity.

A verisimilitudinous dude
committed to craft: stunt and spectacle
—a Chaplinesque storyteller.

*[ WSB ].

Loss, the Cross, and the “Lord of the Flies”



Rational thought: Piggy with “flashing glasses”
brought by “flashing-eyed” Athena.
The release of Promethean fire,
isolation from modernity: the adolescents.

Savagery at the core of humanity
against the impetus forward into day–
the rapid fall toward the void
— marooned boys:

quick dissolution of order. Ralph sheds his clothes
in the sunrays. Clothing marks walls;
the conch calls—the ocean lost.
Jack [the unbridled force] controls troops:
jackboots against the sun.

Simon sees the Beast coming. Crucifixion.
The feast of the hunt; pig becomes
the Lord of the Flies: Beelzebub.
The tribal drumming swells


*[ WSB ].



Plaintiff [Donald J. Trump], and Plantiff’s lawyers,
are urged to reconsider their opposition
to Defendant’s [Attorney General of New York,
Letitia A. James] Motion to Dismiss.
This litigation has all the telltale signs
of being both
                         vexatious and frivolous.


Federal Judge Don Middlebrooks,      of the Southern District of Florida

*[ WSB ].