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Vaccine Additives

May 1, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Vaccine Additives

Suppose it’s true. . .

Smoke some deGrasse

and let your mind

drift

(lol, your mind)

Say we are living in a simulation. . .

a game on an X box in a land

far, far

away
 
 
(not even a good game)

and by virtue

of a virus

(not even a good gaming system)

or a covertly operated, economy crashing, freedom encroaching, Special Interest expressing Special Concerns about Special Agendas phenomenon,

are living in our own virtual reality

–a simulation—

or house arrest; it’s just semantics,

while the Movers and Shakers use downtime to their advantage

 

Now posit Gates enjoys “Face Off” time  at night,

(and Gates to what exactly? Though I understand his Bills. . .)

And assume Zuckerberg’s reptilian quality and bad haircut are more than skin deep.

(Working off the theory he’s just a poorly created gif–where would all this end? The Droste Effect dictates never. . .)

 

Fast forward to the picture-in-picture scenario

(lol, fast forward)

which SIMs true (ish) enough

–the best anyone can hope for at this juncture

in this jargon–

and downright validates the phrase “He’s a real PIP”,

positioning Gladys and her boys as well before their time

this time

where PIPs are the seeds in Apples, BTW’s,

and apropos of everything. . .

 

so mathematically speaking

one-zero-one-zero-one-zero-one

(has a rhythm, if you sing it)

in this deGrasse conjecture

it makes sense

that the duckface thumbnails

we’ve grown to become

are playing orchestrated games

games orchestrated by Big Brother

ergo this mise en abyme is

overdue for a pandemic

–worst malware ever!

all its own

(worse than injectable Lysol)

(more than a new emoji)

shaking the foundation

of Facebook

–curly fries tattling on non-conforming spuds–

& breaking Windows

–event 202–

crashing Gates

–ID 2020–

& getting Jobs

breaking the lockstep of New World Orders,

and ridding our “selves” of

bad Apples

& oppressive systems

once?

and for

. . .

all?

 

CHICKENBONES, POETRY

Future Back

April 24, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Future Back

CharronI miss the girl

(I used)

to be

before I saw the boy

(I used)

to love

a guy I thought I missed,

and misguided thoughts I had

— preceding epically misguided action–

banished me to adulthood forever

where magic is tragically misspelled

& signs are just directions on roads,

where soulmates are orthopedic inserts

& always is subjective,

where love is one-dimensional

& butterflies are only exhibits,

Hope sinking there

–as suns did–

Stars dimming, yon

–as lessons illuminate–

verse just the suffix

for

ads.

POETRY

Event 2020

April 19, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Event 2020

we are all islands

–all of a sudden—

islands

man, woman, and deserted child,

stranded in a virtual world

(which U can’t spell without viral)

and Trump stumper or no—you gotta admit that’s bad politics

 

in dividing

in dividuals,

herd mentality reigns

–double an arm-span distance away

(oceans apart)

the world partitioned by screen

doors

(compartments)

slammed shut against pandemic

(which U can’t spell without panic)

opportunity bypassing bell

(sorry we missed you!)

that can’t be un-rung

boarded up w

–Windows broken—

((compartments)) inside of (compartments)

hands not holding

arms not embracing

breath not breathing

 

particular expressions

imprint

on government-stamped

treks

(stay close to home!)

–shell-shocked

(or else!)

in hell-locked

closed–

—the keys gone missing

–freedom deemed non-essential,

along with long-gone rights to privacy

doggone it!

 

Home Alone

Too

(much)

remixed w

Munch’s scream

palms to dropjaw

(dropping arms)

slide inexorably closer

to mouth

–Test boundaries—

(gathering arms)

accidentally on

purpose

–checking corners–

purposefully accidental

 

smile as fixed as far off gaze

so clamped in place  you can almost hear the teeth grinding

–“say cheese” shot weeks past candid–

but doggedly determined

leashed owners retrace steps

not fetching

sticks

(throne)

scepters on backorder

Billy Club hazing new members

WHO

–toilet paper trees

in yards (w) Gates opened.

 

POETRY

the Who, What, Huh Days. . .

April 8, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on the Who, What, Huh Days. . .

when Wendy

asks Wyatt

why he wont

try it

he references Hewitt

what ways

Hewitt blew it

how Howie

maneuvers

w Hoover

who proves her

–proposal

is

probing

he said

(and I’m quoting)

wherefore Werner

wanders

afield as he ponders

he, too, seeks abatement

from inquest

–his statement:

“her motion of myriad–

questions were taxing

they were through period.”

(please just stop asking)

POETRY

Climate Change

April 2, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Climate Change

 
Prat falling,

& rising again & again

–Rain pours everything into its patter
 
 
Weather acapella on dark stage,

or in concert w thunder & lightning

–front row, center—

Rain doesn’t hold back

. . .

from drizzle to

downpour,

Rain renews

–on the DL for future flowers

–in your face for fresh-washed car, and

d’raining though it is

Rain bows

when its through

sky-written reminder

of nascent bloom

 

Snow drifts, though

–clingy at first

when you brush snow off,
 

Snow gives you the cold shoulder

–back

& breath–

chilling all spoken

–Snow permeates

puffs out clouds that snuck inside—

Snow’s got game

.

 .

.

men,

fort,

& balls

–sometimes, balls–

(when it gives a sleet)

snow

–throws down

 

Sun’s more industrious

at day’s end

Sun sets-
 

-up for the morning.

(Croissant moon

w black cosmos)

Sun sweeps stray rays

under cloud rugs,

Sun paints them.

Lines them.

Fluffs them.

Sun fusses over clouds

so much

clouds disappear

–for some quiet time—

when they see Sun coming, &

conspiratorially,

Sun winks

–as it clocks out

 

CHICKENBONES, POETRY

A Month of Some Days

April 2, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on A Month of Some Days

 
Like really bad

toilet

(paper)

humor

we have broken up w

everyone. . .

simply

e-v-e-r-y-o-n-e

including that a**hole

our erstwhile everyone

disliked

–and has—

(like opinions)

added to handbasket

(already brimmin’

w the unhygienic version of hell)

 

ditching handbasket, then

in favor of forklift,

(and pitchfork accessory: step off, I say, step the f*rk off)

we’ve purchased

conciliatory comfort

food by the pallet

(emergency rations)

& bunkered in for some

undeserved

“me” time

(rationale: emergency)

unhinged by sudden surfeit of deprivation

 

snapping selfie

after

cell fee

–temporarily waiving in mirrors–

we’ve squandered

personal daze spanning spectrums

(soothing solitude to demoralizing desolation)

going

up↑

 up↑

  up↑

w

  down↓

 down↓

down↓

time

looking for that

flattening

of a

(bell)

curve

ball

–the one a divided & fed up to

^here^

world

lobbed–

on the off chance

we’ll miss

 

–forgetting

those drowning

polar bears. . .

 

POETRY

Cell-fee

March 31, 2020 by Charron's Chatter Comments Off on Cell-fee

been in a spiral

since virus went viral

my livelihood taken away

while stress relief gym class

is closed by the Big Brass

no movies

no concerts

no plays

 

though much needed “me” time

is generally sublime

enforcing it renders its glow

an offshoot of bright screen

featuring newstreams

which content is focused on woe

 

I wonder what measures

we’ll turn to when pressure

to flatten the curve tapers off

if full body condoms

and masks will solve problem

of airborne, and there borne

or not.

 

if dating on dot coms

will stay there, not go on

to meeting in person at all

since droplets don’t travel

through sites, threads, or channels

through video conferencing calls

 

if you paired up

pre-dating pandemic

you’re probably panicking less

since 6 feet is same breadth

as depth for you in death

a distance unsocial…at best…

POETRY
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