Poems and Prose #83 - Leveled

I fell down the staircase
and busted my noggin.
Groggily, I stood up
to see where I'd gotten,
and suddenly felt so very
goddamn downtrodden,
the light from behind me
less a halo than a bobbin,
haphazardly strapped to
my now-down-here noggin.

Poems and Prose #82 - Hatching

Connected to a grid,
I bid goodbye to my friends,
as non-uniformity now descends,
upending eons of bins with tight lids,
to where their masses do what
none before ever did:
detach
and, in the thin vacuum of space,
forevermore suspend.

Poems and Prose #81 - Cuffed

Bound in a basement,
the goblin rubs
his chain-reddened wrist,
pacing back and forth
as his hands
transform into fists.

The beast's mutters
turn to sputters
as the ire persists,
his face full of rows
of the window blinds'
sun-restraining slits.

Upstairs he can hear
the laughs, the songs,
the dances, the chats,
his back jerking
every time the floorboard
he's beneath is passed.

In the semi-dark,
the goblin lurks,
his thoughts like a rash,
irking him to recede
and scratch-scratch
scratch-scratch-scratch...