Life Extension

Religion leers:
“Join me, or you face death,”
And History jeers,
“Inevitable death.”
But Science still adheres
To schemes to postpone death.
The path of a thousand years
Starts with a single breath.

Published online in Bewildering Stories #746, 21 January 2018

Haiku - Young Man

Where's the young man gone
Who lived in mirrors so long?
Putting old masks on.

Published online in The Asses of Parnassus, 11 January 2018

Body Modding

It starts with teeth, for even the healthiest:
Fillings put in, and “extra” teeth pulled out
Or realigned, the whole jaw moved about,
New faces for the kids of the wealthiest.
Tonsils, appendix, out. The stealthiest
Inject, use pills, every fluid reroute
With tourniquets, with tampons, condoms... flout
Flow, through to adult nappies. Atheist
As Science makes us with creative powers,
We add pumps, implants, radio, wires, chips,
Casually as tattoos, replacement hips;
Graft patchwork skin from humans, pigs, plants, flowers,
Joined in flamboyant Frankensteinish suture,
Racing against decay to cyborg future.

Published online in Snakeskin, January 2018

Shrivelling

After the last wife has died,

After the last woman has left in tears of frustration,

I shall sit, bent over, body and face

Not wrinkled as waterlogged fingers, but rather,

Dessicated and shrivelled as a raisin, all juice gone,

Mind crumpled up and thrown away in the trash,

Brain deflated and erratic as a dried-out walnut

To be packed away, hidden away in the cold, unthinking, in stasis,

In the hope that a Springtime of Science will have me take life again and sprout

Up, up, into something a thousand times greater than I was before, or am now.

Published: Ambit 211, UK, January 2013

THE SQUIRREL IN THE ATTIC OF HIS BRAIN

The squirrel in the attic of his brain
Shreds photographs, pulls memories apart;
The old dog in the basement of his heart
Howls, lonely, soft, monotonous as rain;
And somewhere further underneath, a snake
In hibernation stirs, irked by its skin.
Up where the world’s news and supplies come in
Through the five senses of his face, to make
The room in which a garrulous parrot squawks
And sometimes songbirds sing – it’s his belief
Mice gnaw behind the wainscots of his teeth.
The cat of consciousness, impassive, walks
Toward the door to go out for the night:
Is everything (oh dog, shut up!) all right?

Published: Visions International, US, October 2007