dimanche 26 août 2012

The App

I vowed to upload an App
knowing that that risk
might my feeble network be denounced
Would friends reflect how affable am I?
A gullible glut?
not in My House would such a program roll
Instagramming, friending even those I know not

The damnation to belong to this virtual screen made
my fingers shake and stick in sweatiness
"There is always immolation" said the back of my mind

Nevertheless, I reached for that App application
my bones distorting in grotesque lines
(The App may have been so old or so new)
but it smelt of a cave and at the moment my finger and it started shaking

I gesticulated to a friend on Skype
I felt bewildered yet knew this was no game I was getting into
for this App would deal a certain blow
that would hearken even my boldest aspirations
sending them to the dark

Then I received a poke and a "wtf"
My concentration ceased,

the wind blew threw the windows, across my room
The concrete wall ornamented with the unique plug seemed to shake as well

"Wtf, WTF!" I cried, my voice becoming shrill as my finger plunged
down hard on the App
and yet,
it asked me to reload

And again and again into the small hours of the day
I felt spasms as if I were edging towards that plug to
Pull and abandon the whole process

The heat in the room was overwhelming
Suddenly I ripped open my cotton shirt
The buttons fell on the floor
spinning like the wheels in a game of roulette

I was far from the desert
Yet dammed as only my mind was seemingly forbidden
From reaching into the vast synthetic canyons
With the possibility of spraying bullets from a raft down the rapids
Or walking or swimming along the mountainous edge

Before all my energy hath be ridden just one last insidious plea:
if thou deny me this App
let the cattle off my ship
let the chips slide off my table
Rid me of cruel electricity
that frogs my soul.

dimanche 19 août 2012

An American Dream

Equipped with GPS the Muffin Squad went searching the Atlantic
A box of English muffins was missing and
Not any box

Amongst the six fresh muffins was
one
half
that had been toasted

They sailed with crew over choppy waves
The advanced version XS Y VII BP
Began tracking a floating box
That reflected the same dimensions of
Six muffins by one or
3.7 inches by 11.1.

Operating in dark, gusty conditions the
ship followed a longitudinal axis
The Captain, wearing an Armani jacket,
was miffed by the nautical miles we clocked in
For what he considered an insignificant mission
When, Lo and behold

A floating package with the Thomas' label
appeared in the sight of the second mate
Immediately a diver dove into the icy waters
grabbing the package and lifting it to the surface.

Mike the Muffin Man -or the one who dreamed of rescuing the muffins
reached into the package expecting to find the half toasted one
toasted and hard unlike any other muffin
Suddenly his face made a grimace as his fingers
encountered the mush of egg salad
The mayonaise infiltrated his skin and reached under his finger nails

In a tiff he tore the plastic wrapping apart
His anger was steaming had he had a gun he would have
Fired a bullet straight through the muffins
(But no, he was a pacifist, having voted against the NRA)
He took a deep breath instead.

Back on the Miami coast
The Squad
Raced to a supermarket and bought bags of chips and
Dozens of eggs

At the checkout they requested to open the bags and have
Each chip and each egg placed in a plastic bag,
The bagger, an elderly fellow with missing teeth offered
A ceremonious smile -his picture, just at the entrance, nominated
Him for best bagger of the week.

A huge line built up behind the Muffin Squad
Shoppers, some silent, some chatting from their electric carts
Some rattling off intrepid lines valorous of elevator talk,
And some just enjoying the AC; after all you could take it in
Without adding a calorie.

The 3 shopping carts were filled.
The bagger got a dollar for carrying it all to the trunk of the
Scalding car. Off cruised the Muffineers, destination: the Olympics.
The mission was sensitive:
Get to the final competition of the women's synchronized swimming
and disrupt the event during the American's performance.

Why? Because the Americans are doing a Batman act and plan to
shoot each other using blanks. Only the Iranians surreptitiously
replaced the blanks with real bullets meaning that blood would spill
live on NBC.

Equipped once again with GPS the Muffin Squad which now became
The Muffin Squad XS III, set off at high speed with American Pie blasting
On the radio.
"Swimming Gold Medal Pool 4.6 miles on left" a metallic voice announced,
They were almost there when suddenly Mike, slammed on the brakes screaming
"Shit, I forgot the mayonnaise!!!"

It was too late: getting into the swimming hall would have been impossible
Without the proper egg salad. By the time the Muffineers got out of a 7/11 with the mayo
They passed a store diffusing images of a Batman and a Joker in swimsuits,
Sunken in a bath of blood on the floor of the pool,
The crowd was cheering and the judges help their placards high in the air
Displaying respectable scores given the level of difficulty.