Stay true to your wool, 
so heavy and full, 
from follicles born, 
and with honor worn, 
a horror when shorn, 
its loss you would mourn. 

70/365

Beweir
the phisherman’s net
across your datastream
that harvests
the glittering carp
of your identity.

68/365

Bred tiny,
wolf-spawn
remade into toys
for fawning queens,
by surreptitious means;
Her gene-splicing Majesty
causing the tragedy
of Princess Peggy’s
Pomeranian Pixie-Pup
accidentally drowned
in a china teacup.

67/365

“Cheese it, the copse!”
shouted Dale,
thinking he was so funny
until the trees
arrested him
for littering the forest
with his little orange
cracker squares.

66/365

On social media
no one knows
you’re a dog,
you’re a bot,
you’re a troll,
you’re a poet,
you’re a catfish,
you’re a sock puppet,
you’re a brand mascot,
you’re the government,
you’re an influencer,
you’re a misinformation campaign,
you’re the resistance.

64/365

Beyond the shadow
of a doubt
stretches the penumbra
of a suspicion
where I lie awake
and contemplate our condition.

63/365

The Oscar gleamed
in the spotlight
on the mantelpiece
under five layers of polish,
testament
to the enduring power of set design:

“Best Balustrade in a Supporting Role!”

62/365

Beyond my fathoms
and sinking deeper,
my burning lungs
surrender all further plans
of ascent.

I float
at peace
and admire
the beauty,
your beauty,
as you take away
my final breath.

61/365

Welcome to the Interim,
a chrysalis
between what we were
and what we are destined to become.

57/365

On a looping path
through a maze of pipes,
a hedgehog
and a plumber
collide!
Pixels smash together
in a rain of rings and coins.

55/365

Thaddeus Smythe III,
fifth generation genetics professor,
droned on
about alleles and phenotypes,
oblivious
to the glowing flask
on the desk
of young Teddy Smith,
who doodled base pairs in the margins
while taking notes in class
and tinkered,
in his off time,
with new forms of life.

54/365

“Rumbler. High-squeak. S.B.D.”

Under the table,
Cousin Mable
relays what she hears
from dinner guests
in surrounding chairs
as their holiday meal
digests.

“Double-toot. Earthquake. Elephant.”

Cousin Scott
draws a dot.
First to fill a row,
he erupts,
“Bingo!”

53/365

Unbridled,
running wild,
the mustang,
freed forevermore,
eschews the conquistador.

51/365

Circling my car
around the reservoir
polluted by capers
and running on vapors

50/365

A crown
weighed down
the clever mind
of Archimedes,
displacing
all other thought;
A puzzle to unfold,
the purity of gold,
and how to find it
using math.

He gave up
and took a bath,
and from his soak
shot up and spoke,
“Eureka!”
naked and loose
across Syracuse.

48/365

Witness the vampire,
inching forward
stepwise,
avoiding eyes,
feeling the pulse
of an 80s hair band,
surrounded
by green glass bottles
stocked by region
and triglyceride level,
attended by demons
in gothic aprons,
waiting,
waiting,
waiting
for the next
available cashier.

46/365

Each drop of rain
holds a blueprint
to recreate
the universe.

45/365

They laughed
at Noah’s Ark
and guffawed
at backyard
fallout bunkers,
but since the robots
came to town,
we’re thankful for
the Faraday Cage
Cafe and Human Shelter.

44/365

A 1978 Mercury Monarch
rusting
in an automotive graveyard
hides a kingdom
of butterfly messengers
bearing secrets
from the gods.

43/365

Join the warmup,
shimmying to the whims
of parasitic bosses
who snap fat fingers
and drain your future.

Join the race
on a grindstone track
designed to buff
rough edges
and rebellious textures.

Join the chase,
blinders on,
as your dangling carrot
recedes into the distance.

42/365

Pride 
       of the Flapper Era, 
engineered
       by T-square,
a termite-loving
              wooden coaster
       endures,
forever unsurpassed. 

38/365

The dream bus
sailed
down the thoroughfare
of slumber
making no stops,
an express
to Anxiety Square.

37/365

Every person
is a nexus
of the universe. 

36/365

The mighty oak 
falls to the saw 
and as it crashes 
dreams 
of acorn days 
gripped in the mitten 
of a child, 
streaking down 
a snowy slope. 

“Someday 
you will be 
a sled,” 
the child whispered 
to his friend, 
now, at the end, 
the falling tree shouts, 
“Rosebud!” 
and nobody knows why. 

34/365

Welcome
to the Human Multiplex,
currently screening
over 8.2 billion films
in a shared
cinematic universe.

30/365

The shortest leash 
and tightest collar 
is the need 
for one more dollar. 

30/365