Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Poetry Wednesday 25 April 12


Plaster casts of Bigfoot tracks

Your excited laugh

Nevada State Route Three Seven Five

Gas tank’s down to half

Picnic on the grassy knoll

Sixth floor windowsill

Your wild eyes while you dispute

Oswald’s shooting skill

You pout and sulk

At Arizona’s hulk

But you’re angry too

Cause Roosevelt knew

From beyond

Orbs erratic

Half a word

From digital static


You and me

The ghosts you see


Chupacabras drinking goats

Flying saucers glide and spin

Warm food on abandoned boats

Soundstage moonlight on your skin

Licking lips

Space-time rips

Hands on hips

And radar blips

The world around us blurs and slips

Breathy murmured whispered trips

False flag operations scurry

Waging war for oil

Because of fluoridation worry

All our taps are spoiled

Men in black

Ancient sects

Big brother reads

Our e-mail text

I hold you as you watch the skies

Roswell dreams behind your eyes

Visions of that slate gray face

And taking cows to outer space

Charges topple building seven

Videos with varied views

While you’re watching nine eleven

All I want to watch is you

Relentless, we’ll be brave

We’ll find your proof

Obsessive, hidden graves

Clandestine truth

Running from the Mormon death squads

Chase Illuminati

Ignoring all the pagan sex gods

Worshipping your body

In the night we’ll root them out

Find their hidden base

In the light, we’ll point them out

Memorize their face

Brush the shadows off their backs

Expose them to the sun

Get to know them, make them crack

Until you’ve finally won

I’ll believe these things you think

No matter how insane

Ignoring every missing link

Inside your logic chain

So through every black bag nightmare night

And every feared abduction

Between sniper scopes that catch your sight

And attempted cult induction

I’ll cover Loch Ness with my cloak

So you might walk across

We’ll never go to Roanoke

And chance us getting lost

And the greatest chivalristic deed

When pressures truly mount

Are all the little things you need

The little things that count

I’ll check the house and lock up tight

When it’s time to go to bed

Your tin foil hat, on just right

Your thoughts cannot be read

Just rest your little worried mind

Get some peace your day denied you

Dream the truth you’ll never find

And I’ll be here right beside you

By Shane Koch

About the author: Shane Koch will never write for a living. He only writes for fun.

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