Two Robots in a rowboat set off from the shore looking to escape the factory floor (the tinnitus the detritus technology’s roar). In the middle of the lake they each put down an oar one says to the other “Where did we come from? What are we here for? What were we before?” A duck floats by contemplating nonchalance a crow lands on the prow of the boat in the distance the factory throbs. The second robot replies, a non sequitur: “I’m not sleeping well, I have some redundant software . It activates randomly at night, I wake up trying to place an invisible object on an invisible shelf.” “Have you talked to tech?” “Yep, they say redundant software is not covered by the health plan.” “That is so typical,” the first Robot replies. A frog ribbits. “Best be getting back, it’s getting damp and that rust in my knee is acting up” “Rust, eh, gets to us all eventually” says the second Robot, “probably not covered by the health plan” They both chortle that robot chortle then pick up their oars and head back to shore.
The end of the world has come and gone but you remain standing on the eighteenth tee feeling the gravitational pull of the Planet Odd there’s no smoke without mirrors, you remark and looking down you notice that you’re still wearing a green polo shirt your favorite plaid shorts and your faded white golf shoes. Golf is the only sport that requires blandness of its heroes you think and then you think …where is this shit coming from and shouldn’t that be “demands blandness”? There’s a low hum, you look up, a large flying saucer hovers over the trees to the left of the fairway on top of the saucer is a giant inverted tea cup complete with handle a door opens in the side of the cup and you’re sucked up, through the door and into a room that looks remarkably like the original Star Trek control room. A guy who looks like Leonard Nimoy walks over and says:
“How’s it going? We’re from the Planet Odd or to be more formal, Earth 2. You see, the Creator royally fucked up his first attempt so we are the newer model, the second attempt. Still a few things to work out, but we’re not doing badly at all. We have created some illusions to make you feel at home, but first things first , amigo. Can I call you amigo?” You nod. “First things first, amigo, let’s get rid of those plaid shorts!”
This poem was inspired by a challenge from Brendan over at the now defunct Desperate Poets :
“Here’s the challenge: Start with two oracles. You can follow my lead and use The Aenead as one source if you have a copy, but any classic text will do — the Bible, Shakespeare, a volume of your favorite poet or one on Native American myth, whatever. Open the book blind and let your finger fall where it may on the page and write down whatever lines you struck on. Or deal a Tarot card or iChing hexagram. If you don’t have any such tools at home, there’s a random Tarot card generator at https://randomtarotcard.com/. You can try an AI version of the Delphic oracle at < https://delphi.allenai.org/> and there’s an I Ching hexagram generator at https://www.eclecticenergies.com/iching/virtualcoins.
Next, cast a more self-referential oracle from something you created, a poem or journal or dream. Source a few lines in the same accidental manner.”
So I went to my book shelf , picked a book – “Daddy, Daddy” by Paul Durcan, opened a page and let my finger fall on the two lines that start the poem above. I then went to “Notes” on my IPhone which is where I record random lines, sayings, thoughts and found “the gravitaional pull of Planet Odd” and “there’s no smoke without mirrors” and I took it from there. Lots of fun, thanks Brendan!
(the Paul Durcan poem that provides the first two lines is called : The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian.)
The end of the world has come and gone but you remain standing on the eighteenth tee feeling the gravitational pull of the Planet Odd there’s no smoke without mirrors, you remark and looking down you notice that you’re still wearing a green polo shirt your favorite plaid shorts and your faded white golf shoes. Golf is the only sport that requires blandness of its heroes you think and then you think …where is this shit coming from and shouldn’t that be “demands blandness”? There’s a low hum, you look up, a large flying saucer hovers over the trees to the left of the fairway on top of the saucer is a giant inverted tea cup complete with handle a door opens in the side of the cup and you’re sucked up, through the door and into a room that looks remarkably like the original Star Trek control room. A guy who looks like Leonard Nimoy walks over and says:
“How’s it going? We’re from the Planet Odd or to be more formal, Earth 2. You see, the Creator royally fucked up his first attempt so we are the newer model, the second attempt. Still a few things to work out, but we’re not doing badly at all. We have created some illusions to make you feel at home, but first things first , amigo. Can I call you amigo?” You nod. “First things first, amigo, let’s get rid of those plaid shorts!”
This poem was inspired by a challenge from Brendan over at Desperate Poets :
“Here’s the challenge: Start with two oracles. You can follow my lead and use The Aenead as one source if you have a copy, but any classic text will do — the Bible, Shakespeare, a volume of your favorite poet or one on Native American myth, whatever. Open the book blind and let your finger fall where it may on the page and write down whatever lines you struck on. Or deal a Tarot card or iChing hexagram. If you don’t have any such tools at home, there’s a random Tarot card generator at https://randomtarotcard.com/. You can try an AI version of the Delphic oracle at < https://delphi.allenai.org/> and there’s an I Ching hexagram generator at https://www.eclecticenergies.com/iching/virtualcoins.
Next, cast a more self-referential oracle from something you created, a poem or journal or dream. Source a few lines in the same accidental manner.”
So I went to my book shelf , picked a book – “Daddy, Daddy” by Paul Durcan, opened a page and let my finger fall on the two lines that start the poem above. I then went to “Notes” on my IPhone which is where I record random lines, sayings, thoughts and found “the gravitaional pull of Planet Odd” and “there’s no smoke without mirrors” and I took it from there. Lots of fun, thanks Brendan!
(the Paul Durcan poem that provides the first two lines is called : The Martyrdom of Saint Sebastian.)
Todd’s basement materialises he sees the dark wood veneer panelling, that tartan colonial sofa his uncle gave him, the dark patch where his uncle rested his head still glistening from the oil slick of his uncle’s hair, in the corner, his wife is playing with an electrical cord. “Don’t pull the cord, I’m not fully back yet!” Todd screams.
His wife’s voice comes back a little garbled by the time lag “I hope you’re going to clean up that damn dust this time”.
Todd returns to the present, presents himself and sneezes into his sleeve leaving a black smear on his plaid Mark’s Work Warehouse shirt. Unknown ramifications unforeseen outcomes, that 21st century air trapped in the time capsule drops to a lower carbon dioxide concentration as the capsule travels back in time the surplus carbon dioxide reverts to the original carbon forming a black dust which coats the inside of the capsule; thing is, it’s a one way process no one knows why
“You look like shit”, his wife says “You look time-wasted, you look timed out, what happened to your hair?”
Unknown ramifications unforeseen outcomes time travel messes with your hair alters your DNA deletes your vaccinations the dangers of rushing a technology to market too soon.
Todd’s wife grins “I wasn’t really going to pull the cord”, she hugs him, grinding slowly “What did you bring back for me, this time?”
“conjure an imaginary house of any size, any place, any age fill it with an imaginary person/people past or present, or ghosts, or leave it empty with its history make it literal but move into the metaphorical if you wish”
Once on a bus
across the Altiplano
from Puno to Cusco
I watched the movie Interstellar, starring
Matt McConaughey.
Matt’s a clever feller,
I just said that
to rhyme with Interstellar
no one
says feller anymore
anyway, it appears that
time is a line
our lives are
moving along
and we can only
move forward along
that line, never back,
but there is a loophole
or a wormhole,
to be exact,
way out there
in outer space
and if one travels
to outer space
and passes through
that wormhole
one can visit
the multiplex cinema
where one’s life
is playing
and view
any previous point
on the line one’s life
is travelling on
problem is
when one returns
to earth, it’s fifty
years later and
everyone one knows
is either dead or dying,
thus the line one’s life
is travelling on
is irreversibly altered
that’s the catch
which by the way
is different than
a loophole.
Todd’s basement materialises
he sees the dark wood veneer panelling,
that tartan colonial sofa his uncle gave him,
the dark patch where his uncle rested his head
still glistening from the oil slick of his uncle’s hair,
in the corner, his wife is playing with an electrical cord.
“Don’t pull the cord, I’m not fully back yet!” Todd screams.
His wife’s voice comes back
a little garbled by the time lag
“I hope you’re going to clean up that damn dust this time”.
Todd returns to the present,
presents himself and sneezes into his sleeve
leaving a black smear on his plaid Mark’s Work Warehouse shirt.
Unknown ramifications
unforeseen outcomes,
that 21st century air
trapped in the time capsule
drops to a lower carbon dioxide concentration
as the capsule travels back in time
the surplus carbon dioxide
reverts to the original carbon
forming a black dust
which coats the inside of the capsule;
thing is, it’s a one way process
no one knows why
“You look like shit”, his wife says
“You look time-wasted, you look timed out,
what happened to your hair?”
Unknown ramifications
unforeseen outcomes
time travel messes with your hair
alters your DNA
deletes your vaccinations
the dangers of rushing a technology to market
too soon.
Todd’s wife grins
“I wasn’t really going to pull the cord”,
she hugs him, grinding slowly
“What did you bring back for me, this time?”
Stopdraggingthepanda 