To Ruby

You waved out the window to me, golden hair framed by a rectangle of centenarian siding.  To embellish the goodbye a bit, you told me you love me.  Thank you.  You are so good at living in the moment.  I love you too.

In a bad relationship with a machine

You are a cruel elevator.  Just when I need you most, you leave me standing at the first floor, taunting me with all the other passengers you are carrying.  Once I get in the habit of taking the stairs again, there you will be, door open.  Cruel elevator.

I might not survive this complaint, but I need to get this out there.

I hate your cooking, Baba Yaga.  These children taste awful.

Daily Affirmation

Every day, I strengthen my bones for it.  The heft of a steel sword, the hint of frost in a late winter gale, the smell of tigers, cosmic rays, parking violations, misplaced cigarettes, bad dreams, uneasy laughter, gallows humor, the calculus of a war against invisible enemies, the huger for things I can no longer have, missed appointments, lost sleep-I carry the Y chromosome of Vikings, and all of this makes my hair long and that is the end of it.  I count bullets.  I stockpile.  I endure.
I have discarded the concept of sin a long time ago.  It is a Christian notion I can ill afford.  Despite this, more times than I can count, strangers have thown ropes down ravines to rescue me.  At the end of each climb, a knot, and nothing else. This is the generosity of barbarians.  The Ravens circle overhead.
Too many Steel Giants this year. Crop failures.  Flaming poodles.  Singing monkeys.  Armored fish.  Juggernauts.  Juggalos.  Hookers.  Hooks.  If I see another Care Bear puking in a garbage can I am going to kick the stuffing out of it.  I have learned to leave a cloud of ink where I once stood.  I have grown strong from pushing the boulder up the same hill every goddamned day and watching it fall down the other side.  Every day, in another way, I prepare for Ragnarok.

Coelocanth

I am going to have to move to an asteroid to get out of this stupid situation I have gotten myself into.  Only a distant asteroid will do.  Cancel that, I could never life on a minor planet.  What is it this time?.  Is it because I never learned to walk on land?  I never wanted to and you never asked.  Fine.  The bottom of the ocean for me.  Better still, CAVES on the bottom of the ocean.  How is that?  I'll be down here if you need me.