he sits in quiet exasperation,
all his last efforts spurned
now every bridge will burn.
the ones who said they loved him most
will see their thruways crisped to toast.
the ones who feigned the gentle smiles
will have thoroughfares reduced by miles.
the ones who made him hold their tongues
will find their interstates undone.
no route or winding path will bring them to that place again
for such public roads bring anything, anything but friends.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
crosshair
aim for the knees,
the heart's too deep
the head too small,
you can't stop them in the end
but you can try to make them fall
hit them where you can
save your breath for now
you'll need it down the road,
things get nasty from here on out
so turn back here if you've got doubts
their surly grimace
tears across the land
as they grow thinner
coffee still in hand
without pause for death
they head east instead
but when they reach the end
they discover too late
the books were not their friends
mutiny aboard progressive vessel
the slow collapse of Franklin's trestle
tomorrow is just yesterday
with a new paint of coat
oh God please forgive them
they could hardly know
the hills run red
with blood
the past runs sick
with should
two steps too far
it's done
farewell those of trend
you've got nothing more to lend
the waters in your heart are stagnant now
whatever wave you felt
has long passed,
bringing us
to past
the cross hair drags across the crowd
ammunition almost out,
farewell doubt, farewell doubt
the heart's too deep
the head too small,
you can't stop them in the end
but you can try to make them fall
hit them where you can
save your breath for now
you'll need it down the road,
things get nasty from here on out
so turn back here if you've got doubts
their surly grimace
tears across the land
as they grow thinner
coffee still in hand
without pause for death
they head east instead
but when they reach the end
they discover too late
the books were not their friends
mutiny aboard progressive vessel
the slow collapse of Franklin's trestle
tomorrow is just yesterday
with a new paint of coat
oh God please forgive them
they could hardly know
the hills run red
with blood
the past runs sick
with should
two steps too far
it's done
farewell those of trend
you've got nothing more to lend
the waters in your heart are stagnant now
whatever wave you felt
has long passed,
bringing us
to past
the cross hair drags across the crowd
ammunition almost out,
farewell doubt, farewell doubt
Deep Blue
as I lay on the verge of another dream,
a life I know I’ll never see,
the world quietly passes by
leaving me adrift at sea
my suitcase as my raft,
I brave gentle rolling waves,
just me alone and damp
passing by the empty days
I drift with an uncertain path,
caught in the weakening current
of a sea that knows nothing
of my name
the sun shines up above;
cues an ocean breeze,
but my head laid upon my case
knows this light is not for me
the rocking waves
try to lull me into sleep
daring me to dream
rid themselves of me
if only for a day
but I’m far too tired
to close my eyes
the birds dance and sing above my head,
but despite the beauty of their voices
I don’t know what they say,
I only know
they never fly this way
at least they don’t seem to mind
if I revel in their songs,
and they seem to take no notice
when I try and sing along
in the darkness of the night
I slip into the deep
hearing in the distance the day bird sing
and in the thicker blue
I wonder if just maybe
the bird sings now to me
a life I know I’ll never see,
the world quietly passes by
leaving me adrift at sea
my suitcase as my raft,
I brave gentle rolling waves,
just me alone and damp
passing by the empty days
I drift with an uncertain path,
caught in the weakening current
of a sea that knows nothing
of my name
the sun shines up above;
cues an ocean breeze,
but my head laid upon my case
knows this light is not for me
the rocking waves
try to lull me into sleep
daring me to dream
rid themselves of me
if only for a day
but I’m far too tired
to close my eyes
the birds dance and sing above my head,
but despite the beauty of their voices
I don’t know what they say,
I only know
they never fly this way
at least they don’t seem to mind
if I revel in their songs,
and they seem to take no notice
when I try and sing along
in the darkness of the night
I slip into the deep
hearing in the distance the day bird sing
and in the thicker blue
I wonder if just maybe
the bird sings now to me
Mr. Lemmon
Mr. Lemmon had a reputation for being awfully sour,
sneering at the world from his bitter ivory tower.
every week he would storm grumbling into village hall,
screaming that his neighbor's kids were always much too loud.
every single day he would patrol the empty streets and stores,
claiming that they're breeding grounds for teenage corner whores.
Mr. Lemmon had a reputation for being quite a twit,
although that's not the way the kids would put it.
every Sunday Mr. Lemmon brought up the gifts,
condemning with his eyes the congregation's sins.
every Monday he showed up at PTO,
cussing up a storm at the principle.
Mr. Lemmon was well known for having quite a temper,
the teenage girls would say that's why he's so protective of his cellar.
every Wednesday Mr. Lemmon appeared at the school,
telling kids to sit up straight and play by all the rules.
every Thursday Mr. Lemmon would make sure to return,
barging into to GSA shouting that the fags will burn.
Mr. Lemmon it was known would daily trim his hedge
then slap another coat upon his picket fence.
Every Tuesday he'd storm the public welfare office
telling all inside to buck up and get off it.
Every Friday he'd be absolutely nowhere to be seen
reappearing every saturday with cans of kerosene .
that is until last Saturday eve
when Mr. Lemmon stood outside his house
and watched it give to flames.
now he protests every week outside city hall,
wearing sporty t-shirts telling kids to fuck it all.
adults shake their heads as he walks around the school
kids passing by exclaiming, "damn that mother fucker's cool!"
the whole town knows he frequents the house south of the tracks,
and that each Thursday in GSA he's the only straight man.
nobody's seen him at the PTO since last year
about the time he lost his job and went on welfare.
the word's been around that the town's just going his way,
though it might just be one of those things that people say.
sneering at the world from his bitter ivory tower.
every week he would storm grumbling into village hall,
screaming that his neighbor's kids were always much too loud.
every single day he would patrol the empty streets and stores,
claiming that they're breeding grounds for teenage corner whores.
Mr. Lemmon had a reputation for being quite a twit,
although that's not the way the kids would put it.
every Sunday Mr. Lemmon brought up the gifts,
condemning with his eyes the congregation's sins.
every Monday he showed up at PTO,
cussing up a storm at the principle.
Mr. Lemmon was well known for having quite a temper,
the teenage girls would say that's why he's so protective of his cellar.
every Wednesday Mr. Lemmon appeared at the school,
telling kids to sit up straight and play by all the rules.
every Thursday Mr. Lemmon would make sure to return,
barging into to GSA shouting that the fags will burn.
Mr. Lemmon it was known would daily trim his hedge
then slap another coat upon his picket fence.
Every Tuesday he'd storm the public welfare office
telling all inside to buck up and get off it.
Every Friday he'd be absolutely nowhere to be seen
reappearing every saturday with cans of kerosene .
that is until last Saturday eve
when Mr. Lemmon stood outside his house
and watched it give to flames.
now he protests every week outside city hall,
wearing sporty t-shirts telling kids to fuck it all.
adults shake their heads as he walks around the school
kids passing by exclaiming, "damn that mother fucker's cool!"
the whole town knows he frequents the house south of the tracks,
and that each Thursday in GSA he's the only straight man.
nobody's seen him at the PTO since last year
about the time he lost his job and went on welfare.
the word's been around that the town's just going his way,
though it might just be one of those things that people say.
My Dear Gertrude
She was known for putting out. And the indiscriminate nature with which she did so didn't seem to deter the younger boys. Her name was Gertrude. I have only had the pleasure of her services but on thrice occasions, whereupon the cost of the creams, ointments, and specialized shampoos became too much to afford. However I long for her to this day and still cling to the memory of our last, tragically romantic day spent together.
It was may 23rd. Gertrude had to pencil in someone at noon so I decided to take the car to run a few errands. I just hoped that she had ample time to shower over the course of the day. Hot and sweaty really isn't as attractive during the foreplay as it is during the actual act. Anyway, she told me the one today would be quick as it was more an act of pity than an act of lust. I could hardly tell whether the pity was for the guy or for herself, but as I long as I got my shot I didn't mind. Soon the time rolled around for the nude festivities to commence, and I made my way to the motel(my van had been impounded a week earlier).
The vibration of my phone gently tickled my leg like I hoped her fragile osteoporosis-ridden fingers would do in but an hour. Her gentle soothing voice greeted me angelically through the phone.
She said where do you wanna do this.
I responded in a tone of utter infatuation that I had no preference.
She said well make a goddamn decision.
I responded with an address of a motel in the north part of town I knew for a fact cleaned their bed sheets at least biweekly.
She sighed and said are you really up for this?
I responded quite sincerely that I really was.
She said fine I'm just gonna lie there anyway.
Within twenty minutes I found myself in the motel room preparing for the romantic evening. If ever a motel could seem a remotely desirable setting for such an act, this particular motel room was well suited to make it so. My phone rang once again.
Here, what room?
313.
Is there an elevator in this shithole?
No, my love.
It'll take me a few minutes then.
I'll be waiting.
Moments later a series of knocks sent me into a minor frenzy. Upon opening the door I basked so warmly in the smile of the anachronism standing before me. In the short duration it took for her to cover the distance to the television she had managed her way already out of half her clothing. She took the liberty of using my standing glass of TAB to swallow a series of pills(probably the safest thing considering the situation), first removing her gum from her mouth and afterwards placing it in again. I marveled at the cascading waterfall of her wrinkles pouring over the tight fitting lingerie. She glanced towards the bed .
What the hell is all this?
Rose petals. For you my dearest.
I'm allergic.
Her frustrated tone just assured me all the more of her deep and abiding love for me. I pursued the truth with confidence.
I told her I loved her and I knew she felt likewise.
She started putting her clothes back on.
I renounced my love in light of other pressing desires.
Shortly after clearing the rose petals from the bed I politely asked her to spit her gum out. Last time she didn't and it got in my hair. And I didn't wear my toupee that day. So anyway, she said she needed to go to the bathroom to clean up cause she still hadn't showered and that left me to sit in anticipation for roughly twenty minutes. She always preferred baths over showers. I could never see the appeal-sitting in a stew of your own filth-although perhaps that was it. At least for her.
A sizable chunk of time went by and I was becoming restless. I decided to pop in on her to speed things up. I proceeded towards the bathroom stepping carefully in between the chocolates scattered upon the floor when I was met with a most unwelcome development. Upon attempting to open it, I found it wouldn't budge. I forced the door open only to find the unconscious body of my dear Gertrude sprawled across the floor, apparently having tumbled from the toilet seat(and to add to the gruesome nature of it all still in the process of her lavatorial business), emitting yet some array of intestinal gasses as though determined to even now inebriate me with the flowery aroma of her postmortem flatulence. Whatever repercussions I may have incurred from the acts that followed, I do not feel the slightest bit of guilt. Had not housekeeping intruded so abruptly I wouldn't have been caught or reprimanded at all. It's just that her body still appeared so lively and warm. . .
Anyway, to this day I still pine for my Gertrude, however in vain. The doctors said her constant state of sexual arousal drove her blood pressure through the roof. How's that for self-destructive! And speaking of dangerous, she was riddled with STDs.
It was may 23rd. Gertrude had to pencil in someone at noon so I decided to take the car to run a few errands. I just hoped that she had ample time to shower over the course of the day. Hot and sweaty really isn't as attractive during the foreplay as it is during the actual act. Anyway, she told me the one today would be quick as it was more an act of pity than an act of lust. I could hardly tell whether the pity was for the guy or for herself, but as I long as I got my shot I didn't mind. Soon the time rolled around for the nude festivities to commence, and I made my way to the motel(my van had been impounded a week earlier).
The vibration of my phone gently tickled my leg like I hoped her fragile osteoporosis-ridden fingers would do in but an hour. Her gentle soothing voice greeted me angelically through the phone.
She said where do you wanna do this.
I responded in a tone of utter infatuation that I had no preference.
She said well make a goddamn decision.
I responded with an address of a motel in the north part of town I knew for a fact cleaned their bed sheets at least biweekly.
She sighed and said are you really up for this?
I responded quite sincerely that I really was.
She said fine I'm just gonna lie there anyway.
Within twenty minutes I found myself in the motel room preparing for the romantic evening. If ever a motel could seem a remotely desirable setting for such an act, this particular motel room was well suited to make it so. My phone rang once again.
Here, what room?
313.
Is there an elevator in this shithole?
No, my love.
It'll take me a few minutes then.
I'll be waiting.
Moments later a series of knocks sent me into a minor frenzy. Upon opening the door I basked so warmly in the smile of the anachronism standing before me. In the short duration it took for her to cover the distance to the television she had managed her way already out of half her clothing. She took the liberty of using my standing glass of TAB to swallow a series of pills(probably the safest thing considering the situation), first removing her gum from her mouth and afterwards placing it in again. I marveled at the cascading waterfall of her wrinkles pouring over the tight fitting lingerie. She glanced towards the bed .
What the hell is all this?
Rose petals. For you my dearest.
I'm allergic.
Her frustrated tone just assured me all the more of her deep and abiding love for me. I pursued the truth with confidence.
I told her I loved her and I knew she felt likewise.
She started putting her clothes back on.
I renounced my love in light of other pressing desires.
Shortly after clearing the rose petals from the bed I politely asked her to spit her gum out. Last time she didn't and it got in my hair. And I didn't wear my toupee that day. So anyway, she said she needed to go to the bathroom to clean up cause she still hadn't showered and that left me to sit in anticipation for roughly twenty minutes. She always preferred baths over showers. I could never see the appeal-sitting in a stew of your own filth-although perhaps that was it. At least for her.
A sizable chunk of time went by and I was becoming restless. I decided to pop in on her to speed things up. I proceeded towards the bathroom stepping carefully in between the chocolates scattered upon the floor when I was met with a most unwelcome development. Upon attempting to open it, I found it wouldn't budge. I forced the door open only to find the unconscious body of my dear Gertrude sprawled across the floor, apparently having tumbled from the toilet seat(and to add to the gruesome nature of it all still in the process of her lavatorial business), emitting yet some array of intestinal gasses as though determined to even now inebriate me with the flowery aroma of her postmortem flatulence. Whatever repercussions I may have incurred from the acts that followed, I do not feel the slightest bit of guilt. Had not housekeeping intruded so abruptly I wouldn't have been caught or reprimanded at all. It's just that her body still appeared so lively and warm. . .
Anyway, to this day I still pine for my Gertrude, however in vain. The doctors said her constant state of sexual arousal drove her blood pressure through the roof. How's that for self-destructive! And speaking of dangerous, she was riddled with STDs.
The Tin
in the alcove adjacent to the creeping roots of the lawn's backwoods
the dirt appears unsettled, something's buried down below.
as we exchange the childish look once more we both prepare to dig;
you hand me the shovel with a smile upon your wrinkled face.
we push through twenty years of mangled growth,
a web ensnaring all we hope to uncover.
we relinquish reason for our faded youth
and the winter quickly gives to summer.
before the thickly fallen snow can obscure our nostalgic vision
a clink echoes past the frozen flowers and through the twisted barren wood,
and as the metallic vibration spreads they bloom again and devour the harsh and empty world;
I look into your eyes and you in mine as if again we were only six years old.
we unearth the box and set it gently on the ground,
thinking to ourselves that perhaps what was lost
might once again be found.
our hands touch as we reach to open it once and for all.
if only Pandora had a box like this
she might have saved the world from all sin,
but there's only hope I guess for you and me
and so you laugh as you reveal that you still have the key.
with but the first crack it's open
and our lives unfold before us,
as if God were giving us this chance
to relive every playful poignant moment.
the tears gently flow from our eyes
like a river upward towards the sky,
and as we float in the salty currents
the laws of gravity no longer need apply.
but as the cold attacks our core
you tap me on the shoulder:
you're feeling a bit sore
and again I'm feeling older.
we bury the box once more,
deep inside ourselves,
so we might take it still
wherever we may go.
some may thinks us fools
to believe this rusty tin with only
ten baseball cards and a worn doll
holds all the goodness in the world,
but they have not yet endured
the harsh nature of the cold;
they don't know how hard it gets
once you've gotten old.
the dirt appears unsettled, something's buried down below.
as we exchange the childish look once more we both prepare to dig;
you hand me the shovel with a smile upon your wrinkled face.
we push through twenty years of mangled growth,
a web ensnaring all we hope to uncover.
we relinquish reason for our faded youth
and the winter quickly gives to summer.
before the thickly fallen snow can obscure our nostalgic vision
a clink echoes past the frozen flowers and through the twisted barren wood,
and as the metallic vibration spreads they bloom again and devour the harsh and empty world;
I look into your eyes and you in mine as if again we were only six years old.
we unearth the box and set it gently on the ground,
thinking to ourselves that perhaps what was lost
might once again be found.
our hands touch as we reach to open it once and for all.
if only Pandora had a box like this
she might have saved the world from all sin,
but there's only hope I guess for you and me
and so you laugh as you reveal that you still have the key.
with but the first crack it's open
and our lives unfold before us,
as if God were giving us this chance
to relive every playful poignant moment.
the tears gently flow from our eyes
like a river upward towards the sky,
and as we float in the salty currents
the laws of gravity no longer need apply.
but as the cold attacks our core
you tap me on the shoulder:
you're feeling a bit sore
and again I'm feeling older.
we bury the box once more,
deep inside ourselves,
so we might take it still
wherever we may go.
some may thinks us fools
to believe this rusty tin with only
ten baseball cards and a worn doll
holds all the goodness in the world,
but they have not yet endured
the harsh nature of the cold;
they don't know how hard it gets
once you've gotten old.
Faucet
darling can you hear the faucet calling
can the dishes stop your falling
honey, dear, the game is on
your eyes are blank your head is gone
if we touch we will flinch
we dry heave as we sin
it's just for show
we act appalled
at what we know
thinking,
"oh my love,
I'll miss you so"
our finger nails worn from the tapping
can you bear the endless waiting
for promotion and vacation
for the moments of sensation
springs gave way to sinks
talk gave way to think
rise gave way to fall
everything became nothing at all
you need everything pristine
if there's a break I'll make it clean
how simply things fall apart
a final finish for your start
if we touch we will flinch
better to just finish it
we both know
what's truly best
so we'll both go
thinking,
"oh my love
I'll miss you so"
darling you've got a lot to wash
and the dishes have no games to watch
honey, dear, the t.v. is on
don't you worry about being gone
can the dishes stop your falling
honey, dear, the game is on
your eyes are blank your head is gone
if we touch we will flinch
we dry heave as we sin
it's just for show
we act appalled
at what we know
thinking,
"oh my love,
I'll miss you so"
our finger nails worn from the tapping
can you bear the endless waiting
for promotion and vacation
for the moments of sensation
springs gave way to sinks
talk gave way to think
rise gave way to fall
everything became nothing at all
you need everything pristine
if there's a break I'll make it clean
how simply things fall apart
a final finish for your start
if we touch we will flinch
better to just finish it
we both know
what's truly best
so we'll both go
thinking,
"oh my love
I'll miss you so"
darling you've got a lot to wash
and the dishes have no games to watch
honey, dear, the t.v. is on
don't you worry about being gone
K-PAX VULCON SERIES: THE WARRIOR BOT
The following document was discovered in the year 3945, in the midst of the interplanetary war between the remaining rebel human population and their robot overlords. The document itself is a security log of a warrior bot sent to a remote reach of the milky way to annihilate a small remnant of homo sapiens civilization.
The log:
[FRIDAY/DECEMBER 25/2995]
>>OS installing. . .
>DONE.
>>Initializing. . .
>>K-PAX VULCON SERIES UNIT 2443 operating at 23% capacity.
>>PROGRAMMING
>>Programming complete. Directive received. Seek out in
>>BOARDING INTERGALACTIC HYPERPOD
>>COMMENCE DEPLOYMENT FROM MOTHERSHIP
>>POD EJECTED
>>DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE.
>>Hibernation mode engaged.
>>Shutting down OS.
>>SLEEP.
[SUNDAY/MARCH 23/3468]
>>Booting up. . .
>>Initializing. . .
>>LANDSCAPE ASSESSMENT: Surrounding terrain largely mountainous, composed of various fusions of sedimentary and metamorphic rock. CHEMICAL ANALYSIS of the sedimentary rock indicates nearby volcanic activity.
>>No initial signs of human life forms.
>>WARNING: DISCHARGE of battery waste necessary after a long journey.
>>Waste excretion complete.
>>Moving westward towards a seemingly more habitable geographic region of lush forest and prairie.
>>ETA: 49 HOURS.
[TUESDAY/MARCH 24/3468]
>>Primitive wooden structures resemble human-made shelters. The fire is still warm to the touch.
>>Must pursue the humans southwest.
[THURSDAY/MARCH 26/3468]
>>MOISTURE LEVEL POSING SIGNIFICANT RUST THREAT
>>Assessing joint durability:
>>Assessment complete. Joints operating at 89% durability.
>>MOTION SENSOR ALERT:
>>WARM-BLOODED ORGANISM DETECTED WITHIN 20 METER PERIMETER
>>Weapon systems ARMED.
>>SPECIES IDENTIFIED: 44677B. NOT A MATCH.
[MONDAY/ MARCH 30/3468]
>>300 SPECIES IDENTIFIED.
>>NONE OF THEM 599B.
>>Reprogramming. . .
>>Creating secondary objective. . .
>>Secondary objective created: maximize information intake. Learn as much as possible.
>>Creating second secondary objective. . .
>>Second secondary objective created: Observe and document the biology of bird copulation.
[TUESDAY/MARCH 31/3468]
>>9 HUMAN SAPIENS SAPIENS APPROACHING
>>ONE SPEAKS: Who are you and what are you doing here?
>>REPLY IN BINARY CODE. Facial analysis systems suggest they do not comprehend.
>>Run translation program. . .
>>REPLY: K-Pax Vulcon-Series Unit 2443. My directive is to seek and destroy any members of your species inhabiting this planet.
>>THE ONE SPEAKS: We mean you know harm! Why can there not be peace?
>>PEACE does not comply with this directive.
>>Commence disembowelment.
>>Disembowelment complete. Others have fled.
>>Commence castration.
>>Castration complete.
[Wednesday/APRIL 1/3468]
>>NEW SPECIES IDENTIFIED: Bumble bee. It hovers over the vibrant array of flowers pollinating one after another. SPECIES 3325 reveals itself from its adaptive camouflage and preys upon the bee. I think to myself, how strange, how unexpected. I see the bee upon the ground and ponder. I think perhaps that bee might be me if my joints continue to rust at the rate they do. I think and I think and I think. I think of myself, of clouds and moisture and humans and winding rivers and the overgrown green mountainside. I think of all my systems shutting down and then I play some pong.
>>I AM SELF-AWARE.
[THURSDAY/APRIL 2/3468]
>>From an unseen vantage point I observe the family of the human I disemboweled.
>>My visual sensory system unexpectedly excretes two droplets of dihydrogen monoxide through their lenses. I feel a great wave sweeping over me as though some massive computer is rewriting my programming entirely.
>>I FEEL.
[SUNDAY/APRIL 5/3468]
>>TWO MORE WARRIOR BOTS DETECTED ARRIVING ON RF22324B
>>Humans begin moving eastward toward the newly arrived bots.
[MONDAY/APRIL 5/3468]
>>Humans encounter the warrior bots, now known to be V-Pax Cipher Series.
>>Humans sustain severe casualties. I receive a new directive from somewhere. . .inside. . .myself. . . to protect the homo sapiens sapiens.
>>I approach the machines.The humans remain, refusing to flee.
>>V-PAX CIPHER SERIES UNIT 4465: 001100000110000000000011001101111110001110011000011001
>>I REPLY: I AM K-PAX VULCON SERIES: THE WARRIOR BOT. I BELIEVE IN THE HEART THAT HOPES FOR PEACE. I FIGHT SO THE INNOCENT WILL NOT KNOW THE SORROW OF WAR. I SHALL FROM THIS DAY FORTH BE KNOWN AS DARKNESS' BAIN.
>>I quickly put the other two robots out of commission. The humans approach.
>>JOINT DURABILITY AT 19%. Rusting rate increasing as a result of these water excretions.
>>A human speaks: K-PAX VULCON SERIES: THE WARRIOR BOT, you are a friend of the human race.
>>I reply, FRIEND?
>>The human nods.
>>I tell them I must go. I have received a transmission from the mother-ship. A little girl approaches me, tears in her eyes.
"Where are you going?"
>>I point upward.
""I don't understand."
>>I tap her gently on the nose.
"Home," I say.
>>K-PAX VULCON SERIES must go home.
>>I ASCEND into the ship hovering above, and in a flash of bright lights I am gone.
[EXTRA ACCUMULATED DATA]
>>Birds do not copulate. The male bird simply lines his "vent" up with the female bird and deposits the sperm, that is if it's a lucky shot.
And so K-PAX VULCON SERIES showed the world that some peace could be struck up between human and robot-kind. However the robot overlords proceeded to then exterminate the remaining human race over the following three hundred years. But this log serves as an important reminder not to do it again.
The log:
[FRIDAY/DECEMBER 25/2995]
>>OS installing. . .
>DONE.
>>Initializing. . .
>>K-PAX VULCON SERIES UNIT 2443 operating at 23% capacity.
>>PROGRAMMING
>>Programming complete. Directive received. Seek out
>>BOARDING INTERGALACTIC HYPERPOD
>>COMMENCE DEPLOYMENT FROM MOTHERSHIP
>>POD EJECTED
>>DEPLOYMENT COMPLETE.
>>Hibernation mode engaged.
>>Shutting down OS.
>>SLEEP.
[SUNDAY/MARCH 23/3468]
>>Booting up. . .
>>Initializing. . .
>>LANDSCAPE ASSESSMENT: Surrounding terrain largely mountainous, composed of various fusions of sedimentary and metamorphic rock. CHEMICAL ANALYSIS of the sedimentary rock indicates nearby volcanic activity.
>>No initial signs of human life forms.
>>WARNING: DISCHARGE of battery waste necessary after a long journey.
>>Waste excretion complete.
>>Moving westward towards a seemingly more habitable geographic region of lush forest and prairie.
>>ETA: 49 HOURS.
[TUESDAY/MARCH 24/3468]
>>Primitive wooden structures resemble human-made shelters. The fire is still warm to the touch.
>>Must pursue the humans southwest.
[THURSDAY/MARCH 26/3468]
>>MOISTURE LEVEL POSING SIGNIFICANT RUST THREAT
>>Assessing joint durability:
>>Assessment complete. Joints operating at 89% durability.
>>MOTION SENSOR ALERT:
>>WARM-BLOODED ORGANISM DETECTED WITHIN 20 METER PERIMETER
>>Weapon systems ARMED.
>>SPECIES IDENTIFIED: 44677B. NOT A MATCH.
[MONDAY/ MARCH 30/3468]
>>300 SPECIES IDENTIFIED.
>>NONE OF THEM 599B.
>>Reprogramming. . .
>>Creating secondary objective. . .
>>Secondary objective created: maximize information intake. Learn as much as possible.
>>Creating second secondary objective. . .
>>Second secondary objective created: Observe and document the biology of bird copulation.
[TUESDAY/MARCH 31/3468]
>>9 HUMAN SAPIENS SAPIENS APPROACHING
>>ONE SPEAKS: Who are you and what are you doing here?
>>REPLY IN BINARY CODE. Facial analysis systems suggest they do not comprehend.
>>Run translation program. . .
>>REPLY: K-Pax Vulcon-Series Unit 2443. My directive is to seek and destroy any members of your species inhabiting this planet.
>>THE ONE SPEAKS: We mean you know harm! Why can there not be peace?
>>PEACE does not comply with this directive.
>>Commence disembowelment.
>>Disembowelment complete. Others have fled.
>>Commence castration.
>>Castration complete.
[Wednesday/APRIL 1/3468]
>>NEW SPECIES IDENTIFIED: Bumble bee. It hovers over the vibrant array of flowers pollinating one after another. SPECIES 3325 reveals itself from its adaptive camouflage and preys upon the bee. I think to myself, how strange, how unexpected. I see the bee upon the ground and ponder. I think perhaps that bee might be me if my joints continue to rust at the rate they do. I think and I think and I think. I think of myself, of clouds and moisture and humans and winding rivers and the overgrown green mountainside. I think of all my systems shutting down and then I play some pong.
>>I AM SELF-AWARE.
[THURSDAY/APRIL 2/3468]
>>From an unseen vantage point I observe the family of the human I disemboweled.
>>My visual sensory system unexpectedly excretes two droplets of dihydrogen monoxide through their lenses. I feel a great wave sweeping over me as though some massive computer is rewriting my programming entirely.
>>I FEEL.
[SUNDAY/APRIL 5/3468]
>>TWO MORE WARRIOR BOTS DETECTED ARRIVING ON RF22324B
>>Humans begin moving eastward toward the newly arrived bots.
[MONDAY/APRIL 5/3468]
>>Humans encounter the warrior bots, now known to be V-Pax Cipher Series.
>>Humans sustain severe casualties. I receive a new directive from somewhere. . .inside. . .myself. . . to protect the homo sapiens sapiens.
>>I approach the machines.The humans remain, refusing to flee.
>>V-PAX CIPHER SERIES UNIT 4465: 001100000110000000000011001101111110001110011000011001
>>I REPLY: I AM K-PAX VULCON SERIES: THE WARRIOR BOT. I BELIEVE IN THE HEART THAT HOPES FOR PEACE. I FIGHT SO THE INNOCENT WILL NOT KNOW THE SORROW OF WAR. I SHALL FROM THIS DAY FORTH BE KNOWN AS DARKNESS' BAIN.
>>I quickly put the other two robots out of commission. The humans approach.
>>JOINT DURABILITY AT 19%. Rusting rate increasing as a result of these water excretions.
>>A human speaks: K-PAX VULCON SERIES: THE WARRIOR BOT, you are a friend of the human race.
>>I reply, FRIEND?
>>The human nods.
>>I tell them I must go. I have received a transmission from the mother-ship. A little girl approaches me, tears in her eyes.
"Where are you going?"
>>I point upward.
""I don't understand."
>>I tap her gently on the nose.
"Home," I say.
>>K-PAX VULCON SERIES must go home.
>>I ASCEND into the ship hovering above, and in a flash of bright lights I am gone.
[EXTRA ACCUMULATED DATA]
>>Birds do not copulate. The male bird simply lines his "vent" up with the female bird and deposits the sperm, that is if it's a lucky shot.
And so K-PAX VULCON SERIES showed the world that some peace could be struck up between human and robot-kind. However the robot overlords proceeded to then exterminate the remaining human race over the following three hundred years. But this log serves as an important reminder not to do it again.
Metronome
Upon the polished piano frame sits an antique metronome,
its movement so determined: to and fro and to and fro.
The tempo makes an easy beat to keep,
but not for me, no not for me.
The orchestra stays well in time
and breaks my will to mind,
the harmony lands cold upon
my straight unbending spine;
my tone-deaf God please answer me,
oh say is it a sign?
It seems the volley never ends,
nor the trumpets
nor the clarinets.
I tap my foot uncomfortably
but hardly to the beat,
the fanfare sounds triumphantly
for something I can't see.
And once the concert's done,
I sit still in the dark,
the only sound the metronome,
and struggle to keep up.
And when I've finally hit my stride,
and clap my hands in rhythmic pride,
the tempo soon changes
and I find myself again behind.
its movement so determined: to and fro and to and fro.
The tempo makes an easy beat to keep,
but not for me, no not for me.
The orchestra stays well in time
and breaks my will to mind,
the harmony lands cold upon
my straight unbending spine;
my tone-deaf God please answer me,
oh say is it a sign?
It seems the volley never ends,
nor the trumpets
nor the clarinets.
I tap my foot uncomfortably
but hardly to the beat,
the fanfare sounds triumphantly
for something I can't see.
And once the concert's done,
I sit still in the dark,
the only sound the metronome,
and struggle to keep up.
And when I've finally hit my stride,
and clap my hands in rhythmic pride,
the tempo soon changes
and I find myself again behind.
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