Plan Files

may 3

the color blue in infinite regress
sounds of softly falling objects rolling through the winds
throbbing into the tender ears of sleeping human beings

curled by a window, up against the pane,
the subjection of self a calculated fury
made most cold by the will to press against

as if pushing out the heat of blood
in acts of revulsion and chaos
the mind, wasting itself on thoughts not worth an organ of fire

in unnatural cold we sleep, we hear ourselves die
wishing we had the power to dream,
looking out into the world and finding nothing.

Malaise, deep and strong and purple, died in the rain--which took no pains in becoming the most beautiful sight on campus. Arching rainbows drawn with crystal compasses, seen under an orange light like melted sherbet snow, taken either from the setting star or the soft amber glow of after-hours memfiz, took over half my sky and turned it over on its side. Reminded me of my grandma's terrarium, knocked sideways and all the earth spilled out on one side, the plants brooding in shaky sod, and light careening softly into a perfect mathematical ideal. And the angelic spittle of waterdust appearing out of apparently nowhere, only made worse by the sigh of the leaves above.

whrr

if i were a toaster
i’d be in a movie
with kevin costner
and that chick from that flick with the guy
in the suit
with the gun
and the bandana around his dog
you remember?
i’d be a phone company
in a bucket of society
an feral fevered octopus
in the moors of san hosea.
if there aren’t any moors there
then we’ll have to make a few, won’t we?

fever poetry. hook it up!

Once upon a time in a far away land, there was a tiny kingdom called Rhodes. It was ruled by the wicked wizard Daughdrill and his minions of various races of trolls. There were many people under the spell of a mysterious enchantment that went by the name of “money”, who wandered around thinking of all the slave labor which they had to do--fifteen hours per week, not to mention being trapped with the brainwashed slaves of the Daughdrill entourage! Poor poor slaves, poor poor people. Actually, quite well-off people; this is why Daughdrill had to keep them all under enchantment, in order to keep the gold rolling in. One day Daughdrill was in the tower, counting all his money, when the valiant heroine Evil Eve came with a silver hatchet and began to use it to climb up the side of the tower. The ogres at Campus Safety (actually quite swell chaps when not under nasty enchantments) came in a golfing carriage and said, “Hey, you wench, get down from there!” And the valiant Evil Eve said, “No!” And the Fonz said, “Aaayyyy!” So they got Tim the Rat Man to plant some of the Chicken Supreme by the tower, whereupon a huge Chicken sprung from the ground and began to peck furiously at the tower, seeing as how it looks slightly like corn stuck to a styrofoam structure. Evil Eve bashed it on the head with her $96 biochem book and climbed up to the top of the tower. Brandishing the axe, she said, “This one’s for the ugly Diehl statue which you haven’t torn down yet!” and threw Daughdrill down onto the roof of the Palmer Palace with the weapon lodged in his ankle. And the kingdom of Rhodes was free at last.

©1999 Eve Strain. All rights reserved.