The Invention Of Magic

This is living fantasy;
seeds that grow to trees and
fierce cats that consume flesh and
draw power from it;
this is all just magic,
some ensorcelled fire hanging low in the sky
burning the sight from any who let their looks linger;
how can this be real,
beasts of steel roaming their ritual paths
afraid to veer onto natural earth
for the simple mud is their deadliest enemy;
and all of it, all of it,
on a single drifting dot
in a hazy piece of pointillism.

The Fights You Will Lose

Yes,
the bullet will kill you,
No,
you will not cover a fifteen-foot distance and
knock the gun from the killer’s hand,
No,
it does not matter that you are, yourself, armed
and dangerous,
because you are only reacting
and they are acting,
and the first move wins in this game;
Yes,
the bear will kill you,
No,
it does not care that you wrestled in high school
because it has claws
No,
you would not just punch it cold, one shot,
it’s a bear
you moron,
death comes in many forms,
some large, some small,
some unconquerable by force
and others immune to skill
you won’t survive eating
a granule of caesium-137
no matter how many hot-dogs you
ram down your gullet in fifteen minutes;
why would that skill translate?
why would you think yourself the winner
of games you’ve never played?