TomJones

We go there everynight for the same thing.


We want the samething because sameness is safeness.

We enter through double glassdoors and hang our coats next to the cops’ leather ones.

We walk past the counter that glistensbright beneath halogen lights.

We grab at the yellowed plastic “specialholder” and sigh that it still hasn’t changed.

We don’t reallywant change, but the even the sigh has become routine.

We order coffeeblack from a waitress that smokes more packs of cigarettes in a day than she has teeth.

We wait toolong for her to come back empty handed, but she always does.

We eat greasy food, the blueribbon special, and talk about nothing.

We smile as we pay the check in front of the twoheaded strawberry dragon.

We leave knowing that hourof nothing is everything.

Fireworks (a haiku)

Stand back! I'll burn you!
I'm trinitrotoluene
and acid rainbows.

To Peacekeeper, a robot that wonders if it too has a soul.

Someday, maybe soon, maybe not,
You will reach the end of your quest.

Until then, my metallic friend,
You can visit heaven in an ornithopter.