Ephialtis, The Despicable Nightmare's Name

History’s rife 

With examples 

Like yours, 

And I have to admit 

It must be harrowing 

All all get out, having 

Such a monicker and 

To be stigmatized 

Forever a traitor, 

Your name inexorably 

Etched in infamy, 

While collateral-

 

Damaged matrix victims 

Of your treachery 

Twitch and turn 

In their sleep, unable 

To come to terms 

With the sellout 

Slaughter of comrades 

Carried out 

In your good-for-nothing name— 

Despicably (though aptly enough), 

Your only claim to fame.

 

Undertaker's Haiku

When the assembly 

Line’s finished, what’s left over 

For the graveyard shift?

 

 

Stable, As In Genius

To be able, perfectly 

Logical in the belief 

That every word slipping 

Off your tongue means

 

Exactly what you meant 

To say before being 

Uttered, wouldn’t that be just so 

Peachy utterly dumbfounding, 

You nutty fruitcake?

 

Greek Orthodox Easter Constitutional Redux

Resurrected 

Every year like 

Some clockwork Lazarus, 

You’ll find me taking in the latest 

Changes to my surroundings; 

Since my last appearance, nothing 

Much of import to report, save 

For that almost imperceptible yet 

Inescapable feeling 

I’ve been here before— 

Know what I mean?

 

Spoiled Brat

Poetry has better things 

To do with itself besides 

Tucking you in 

Night after night, 

Duckie.

 

 

Space

Mindless racer, stop 

And think that’s what fills

 

The void in your heart once 

You jettison all that 

 Precious junk orbiting it.

 

 

In Praise Of Timely Poetic Revision

You one of those “vanguard” 

Poets who know where 

Their vehicle’s headed

From the beginning? Time 

To put it in reverse 

Before it backfires 

With you still clutching 

The wheel, your 

Entire production number 

Suspended in midair 

Just over the next scenic hill— 

All you have to do is buckle up 

And wait it out— 

It’ll be over before 

You know it.