Food Boy Meets Kid Bean

My brother Terry has been writing some ebooks recently that chronicle the misadventures of a character named Kid Bean. He is, as the name implies, a bean, who has superpowers. I awoke this morning with a vision. This hazy, sleep-addled vision involved the T³ Interactive character Food Boy marauding through Kid Bean's town of Cornucopia and wreaking havoc. Below is the image that this brief half-hour or so of delirium inspired.

"This is my kinda town..."

Poems and Prose #14: Usury

Sign this document,
and all your worries
will vanish like
late-morning dew,
fuel for the evening fog
that's yet to descend.

The (Possibly) Great Comet of 2013

I read this article recently regarding a newly discovered comet that should be passing within spitting distance of Earth in November of 2013. Its magnitude is predicted to possibly reach a value of around -16, which means it would be approximately five times as bright as the full moon.

I don't really have much to add here, other than to say that I've always enjoyed looking up at the stars and mulling on the vastness of the universe, humankind's ultimate irrelevance, etc., etc. Plus, comets just look really, really cool.

Comet Lulin, showing off a sleek green coma in 2009

Poems and Prose #13: Fortune

It seems fortuitous
that we should
be here now,
standing abreast
on the lip of this abyss.

A cold gust
jostles our garments
as we peer across,
seeking an opposing edge
that never resolves.

Our shoulders slowly
fall and rise,
realization nestling itself
inside the silence.

Hallucinations bubble
in the pitch-black crevasse,
familiar faces
merely apparitions
without mass or density,
mouthing the lyrics
to a thousand simultaneous,
long-forgotten songs.

Our eyelids clench
and they vanish,
then reemerge,
their negative images
easily seeping through.

Poems and Prose #12: Orthogonal

Randomly meandering,
standing here,
blathering,
like mumbled Mandarin
in a blender,
stammering,
hardly mattering,
this serenade of
candid dreams
perpendicular
to unsought things.

Poems and Prose #11: Null

To be,
or not to be?
To question,
to be free?
To know of love
and glee,
and hate
and enmity?
Or to see
simplicity only,
mind relieved
of any thing?