The Creature

from some black lagoon I rise
and out its darkest depths I slip
in search of what, I can’t surmise
my ancient mind is ill equipped
to bury down my reptile dreams
of hungers pure held without guile
in this brave new world it seems
such thoughts as mine should be reviled
am I monster? am I man
judged only on how nature burns
if I can’t hide the beast I am
into the deep I must return.

The Pareidoliac Diaries

I spied a cloudy hippo
strumming his guitar
it could have been a mandolin
but I saw it from afar
he drifted by
and changed his mind
so blew a little tune
upon a passing jumbo jet
on a heading to the moon

Next up charged young Cary Grant
with an extra leg to boot
his middle limb got in the way
when it came time to shoot
the crop dust scene from Hitchcock
didn’t turn out for the best
as the clouds soon blew the other way
with the winds from the south west.

Storage

How many boxes do we need
to keep our ideas in
or sacks or wraps or sleeping bags
to keep the thinking clean
and should I rent some attic space
or cover them with earth
or leave them out to gather dust
to measure out their worth