The New Cellphone

It has a shoulder you can cry on
that has hands-free bluetooth
and one blue tooth as a joke
that can perform laser eye surgery.

The keypad is beyond a keypad.
You can't imagine it,
even in the future,
but it works with your hidden desires
and undulates pleasantly.

"It" is actually a he;
they are all "he's"
except for the queen
and she is a transvestite.

In their incessant anger,
which they deny when asked
they disrupt the earth's magnetic field.
All the birds and fish move
in unsteady circles,

their eyes already corroded
by squid people venom
if they aren't robots already.



there is a fire which burns within my chest
sometimes i forget it is there for the skin
has blistered and hardened a thousand times over,
creating a cloistering effect. so now,
for the flames to lick my windpipe or, even more,
climb out and stand erect i have to become
the president of the world. from there:
something that can't exist like laser vision. expect
a deadening; me going "pew, pew, pew" while holding
my favorite headless action figure like a deposed idol,
eyes split between the prize and the next best thing.


Oceans of Bright Tinsel

The phrase, "There are plenty of fish in the sea"
will be replaced by, "You killed the fish.
The fish.
Now we have to try other animals"
And we will, ushering a new wave of fetishism
that sweeps the nation like a dance craze
with names like,

"Do the half-man, half-bear"
"Squid-person step"
"Shoop a loop wop (My momma
was a bitch
my daddy was a dog"

and everyone would move half their bodies
because of the world-wide stroke.



What was the new,
the brief and temporary
was the modern,
then the post-modern,
then contemporary
the the now,
which was confusing
so we tried to drop it,
but it was so damn catchy
and confusing to those not in the know
it would remain that way
till earth became a barren wasteland,
which didn't necessitate a new name,
but made everyone feel stupid,
which they were
and are
and will be.


The Great Lakes

Bill Murray changed
his middle name
from "fucking"
to "making love,"
laundered all his suits,
and commandeered every drop
of tequila in Texas.

He made a crater
with his fist
and I sat in the wedding
band indent to watch
a single tear traverse
his pock marked face
and land in my cup.
It tasted like tequila;
like something something something.


Our Future

is the one envisioned by the past
because, when it finally arrived
we were still in blue jeans
and white t-shirts just like last year.

Though we felt silly
in our shining metallic jumpsuits,
our fishbowl helmets introduced us
to a strange new world, stretched taught
between earth and sky, that quivered
around our collective stare.

This was the distorted wonderland
promised by men of reason and dreamers
asleep at the speed of light
in a decade from then.

This was the technicolor entrance,
crumpling the senses;
a miasma of reflected light,
a kaleidoscopic crowd inflamed

in sensation, each heart thumping
feverishly, their vibrations reaching
through the air, imparting
the impression of closeness.

For one electric moment
we ceased to notice all the space
and saw our writhing mass
from the heavens
as indistinguishably human.