The Singularity (Unpub)

Address the Singularity,
(assuming you be friends):
"Attend, Herr SingulHerrity!

Before my era ends

and's fled our former parity,

please tell what such portends..."

     (to be continued)

exquisites

 

Signs (11)

"Senatus Populusque Romanorum"

(the Senate and the People of the Romans),
a banner borne by Fascists through the Forum --

a Nazi's sign. (It weren't no British yeoman's.)

"Beyond This Boundry Face Masks Must Be Worn";

ubiquitous, such signs, in recent seasons.

One half the nation treats such signs with scorn --

and, question'd, they will cite you sev'ral reasons.

"Abandon Hope All Ye Who Enter Here" --

a sign disposed above Inferno's door,

or so I thought; but I was nowhere near.

Along the Texas border they're galore.

     (To be continued)

I Can't Get Past The Hair

This image will grace the cover 

of Ulysses Poe's newest collection 

of Nonsense. The book will be 

called I Can't Get Past The Hair.

Nursery Rhyme Conflation: The Muffin Man and Simple Simon

HUAC's hacks would muffins ban. 
Committee members want to know:
"So: do you know the Muffin Man...?"
(They claim he kneads subversive dough.)
Says I, "I know of no such guy.
He lives down Drury Lane, you say...?
I know a Symon: Sy vends pie.
He near the fairgrounds spends his day."

     (to be continued)

Nursery Rhyme Conflation: Little Bo Peep and Little Boy Blue

Little Boy Peep and Little Bo Blue

sought gender switch as up they grew.

Lucky for them, back in the day, 

nobody holler'd, “Don’t say gay!”

     (A contribution from GFH)

Nursery Rhyme Alternate History: Wee Willie Winkie

Guess what Mrs. Winkie's lad
young William's gone 'n' done! (So sad.)
In PJs -- and in nothing more! --
he's run, then stopp'd at ev'ry door:
"To bed, you lot!" he's order'd kids,

then set alight their books 'n' vids!
"You're not to watch the Johnny Carson."
(Wink's now nick'd: one charge of arson.)

Nursery Rhyme Backstory: Three Blind Mice

Macular degeneration;
unrelenting masturbation;
staring shade-free at the Sun...
Which brings blindness...? Any one!
Inane behavior, illness, vice
bring dark days, too, to barnyard mice.
But here's what really tips the scales:
bäuerins bob-bob-bobbin' tails.

Bravo Barry! An ABC

     (Anyone (you...?) can easily adapt these 

lines to pay homage to Reggie White, Jenn White 

or some other similarly surnamed celebrity of 

your choice.) 

There's the white call'd alabaster. 

There's the white of bleachéd bones.
There's the white of shirts with collars 

donn'd by fuddy-duddy Jones.

There's the white on cliffs down Dover way. 

There's whites of egrets' eggs.
There's the white of faint-hearts' feathers 

as that cad forgiveness begs.

There's the predatory great white. 

(Aren't white herons great as well...?)
There are white piano iv'ries. 

Jack White knows no parallel.

Seen on airplane flights: white knuckles. 

Heard in proxy fights: white lies.
And on Broadway, cows named Milky White. 

(In Sondheim's play, one dies.*)     

I have childhood friends who're non-white. 

Off-off-white's a fashion shade.
Pearl White's both a color and an actress. 

(One was bound to fade.)

There's the White Queen -- friend to Alice. 

White rice...? On the whole, it's white.
Ms. Snow White (she lived with seven dwarves). 

White trash enhances blight.

There's the ultra white of salesmen's smiles. 

Vanilla white's for cones,
while white wine is not. (How far we've got 

from cliffs and bleachéd bones!)

Cafe singers croon "White Xmas." 

Hey! Both you and I are white.
And Zin is white. But Barry White 

is black -- and outta sight!

     * In "Into the Woods"

Nursery Rhyme Backstory: Old Mother Hubbard

The Hubbard household used to be
the pillars of community.
Their juveniles then left the land

to seek their fortunes elsewhere -- and,

once others -- elders -- too, had gone,

who left was there to carry on...?

     The matriarch, with her Jack Russell,

'round th'ancestral pile would bustle.

Income, though, did not "come in."

When food ran out, the pair wax'd thin.

In larder left...? Not even bones.

Both starved. (Attend ye: curs 'n' crones!)

Trekkin' the System

On our way to 

Mercury

with Captain James T. 

Kirk, you re-
alize," We trek where 

no one's trekk'd before."

On our way to 

Venus,

we quiz Spock, "Hey! Just be-

tween us,

did you recollect to 

check the pod bay door...?

On our way to 

Saturn

we drop by Pan's* habi-

tat, earn-

ing a billion frequent 

flier miles en route.

     * One of Saturn's several moons

On our way to 

Uranus

with Troi, you order 

her 'n' us,

to power wash and 

press each pressure suit.

On our way to 

Mars,

while "Bones" unpacks his spec'men 

jars,

we hear his, "Dammit, I'm a 

doctor, not a bellboy."

On our way to 

Neptune,

though La Forge thinks you're in-

ept, un-

animous opinion 

(nearly) dubs you Hellboy.

On our way to 

Pluto,

should Montgom'ry Scott fall 

mute...? Oh,

yeah! Just beam us up but 

lose that Glasgow Burr! 

On our way to 

Jupiter

Uhura claims the 

croup put her

in sick bay all last 

week. The cause...? Obscure.

To Earth we 

now must go.

Jean-Luc Picard says, 

"Make it so!"

But we must not ignore the 

Moon as we fly by:

the Moon, whereon's the 

Monolith,

that kitsch from Kubrick's 

sci-fi myth.

(It's Space: we loathe the 

sci...but love the fi.)