I looked in a stone mirror |
deep in a cavern underground
and this is what I saw.
Current Residence: here
Realwhen man life slaps you up the side of the headReal by wh0rem0ans
and you don't know which way to go shimmying,
call the women who have power to spare and
they will share. they will remind you of who you
really are and what you really can do when you
get your magic on. and these women are your
eighteen year old daughter and your old neighbor
blissed friend and don't forget your own self. I do
not ever forget to be grateful for the real women.
Damsel in ExcessI'm not a damsel on distress.Damsel in Excess by wh0rem0ans
I am a damsel in excess. You
buy me beer because I wake
up your soul and look at all
your Audubon photos of birds
in nests making babies. You
wonder if You have been alove
before you met me. The bar-
tender who told me beer was
a rape at six dollars tells me
to let you pay. (Then she pointed
out her husband and I let you pay.)
And you tell me you tied bread ties
to bat wings and let the bat go
off of Bancroft Hall at the Naval
Academy just for fun in only
your skivvies and I leave when
I know I like bats more than you.
and beyondI never used acid as Itand beyond by wh0rem0ans
was meant to be used
but it was still beautiful
trees reached out to me
women fucked in piles
music touched my hair
but the most beautiful
of all the dormant smells
was the scent of beyond.
NaPoMo 2I felt the puppet master's strings,NaPoMo 2 by wh0rem0ans
knew they were there for the very
first time, again. that's odd. that's
even stranger than marrying when
I never wanted to. those strings are
imbedded to almost ten years deep.
I didn't notice them again until I did.
Now I will notice and I will remove,
I will remove them and marry mySelf.
Always-onParis::15d since last chat::0 New MessagesAlways-on by Memnalar
For months, I'd see her at the clinics for our injections, and online in the therapeutic forums. She kept the same odd hours as me. The others managed to find work on a routine schedule. Think-driving sanitation units, working the inbound tech support lines. Workaday, like regular humans. Safe.
Not us. We were always-on. It had been that way in the Gideon pilot pod, when we were all wired together, our minds fused into a single mosaic. I was intuition, stay a step-ahead of the enemy, guessing the next ten moves.
She was the logic center. She did the math. She was a cascade of formulae, speaking in burn calculations, fire rates, weapon heat signature ratios. She gave me the info I needed to make my lucky guesses.
The others got downtime during the long burns, then activated for combat. Not us. We were always-on.
Somewhere along the line, we got too old. All Gideon children get too old. Too big for the pods, too slow to adapt to the upgra