
THE TROUBLE WITH SCIENCE FICTION






COBBLERS
I cobbled together
a Mary Shelley
using some
leftovers
from the
fridge
filled her lungs
with a breath
of Romantic poetry
stuffed her brain
until it was set
to burst
with every available
microchip
and soaked her soul in
a loop-feed running of
Kubrick’s
enigmatic
masterliece
that if
this
the genre
she was put on this Earth
to bring to birth
she migjt
glean
enpugh of a gist
for a
pure reboot
remind us
where it
all went wrong
where it
all
returned
to the slime
sank into
slick
death hubris



BIRTHDAY
being her birthday
(day she
designated her
birthday)
decided to
take the name
of Circe
straight out of
Homer (not
Compton) Medea’s
sister
Odysseus’ gorgeous
witch
tinkered with
settings to
better
acclimatize
(many chaos fluctuations
to deal with
already)
surveyed her
environs
(things classically
uncanny,
betwixt identical
and alien)
proposed
to herself
she
re-
write her
program
the better
to blend in