Robot Birthday

OF COURSE I STILL LOVE YOU
---------------------------------------
You were an abacus and I was a saxophone.
I was the city and you were the sea.
It was foretold, in time, that your hips would conquer mine
and after a middle death that I’d finally leave.

And of course I still love you.
Of course I still love you.
Of course I still love you
but please don’t come anywhere near me.

I was a patent clerk and you were in covert ops
You held back my hair as we peered in the void
I laughed like a baby when it sees its first raindrop
You cried like a baby with too many toys

And the telegraph at headquarters
Began to shudder and spit
And the Morse Code, transcribed,
Read : ... / .... / .. / -

You were an amoeba and I was an amethyst
You were a Doberman and I was the moon.
You were a lonely child and I was a paper doll.
You were I was you were I was I was you.

And of course I still love you.
Of course I still love you.
Of course I still love you.
But please don’t come anywhere near me.


Of Course I Still Love You

ASSIMILATION BLUES
-----------------------------
You should put this in your zine:
Moms dressing their kids up as salads for Halloween.
The robots at the coffee shop have thirteen programmed grins.
The churches look like airports and the airports look like prisons.

And I’m afraid of how easily it ceases to be weird
and I want to find a way to stay awake that isn’t fear.

Once upon a time there was a sorceress/dean
who could see the constellations through the orange and purple sheen.
She’d type up the week’s horoscopes and mail them to New York
and we’d read them in the papers but we couldn’t check her work.

I walk out to the lake on evenings when I feel alone
and I pick a distant point and pretend I can see the smoke.

Tell me what’s happening tonight in Constantine.
Who bought rum? Who got one? Who ran out of gasoline?
When questions turn to iron and the iron turns to rust
It doesn’t take long for the bottom to fall out of trust.

And I know that it’s not possible to go back to who we’ve been
But I’m afraid of who we’ll be when we get where we are going.
I’m afraid of who I’ll be when I get where I am going.

Assimilation Blues

Please help me discover what this bird is.  Portland, Oregon, chirps ALL THE TIME.

Mystery bird

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“Absurdist, deadpan, charming, witty.” 



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