Plane Struck By Lightning

A tale that must be told

Singular in strangeness

Time to unpack it all now that I’m a patient

Declared legally insane

Strange as Webster’s Vertical Plane

Such audacious conflations of credulity all in one place, at such pace,

A mind wearing such weights droops, hides its face like the plate-touching chin of blameless Gorgythion.

Neither the pipe-drum dances of ancient factions nor the python of medicinal Apollo could follow that venom through the blood

Grief is like a vein-strangling mud which saps the will to forge brighter tomorrows

That which strove our dawn age protozoan kin toward more, toward the shining, toward the source, eventually toward shores

Now upward into space where the human race should not go

Disgracing what elsewise might become grace

Perverting old wise races, converting peace-wayed factions to exacting warrior nations

Quarrel addicted their quarrels affix the bricks of a besieged citadel

Satellites shaped like alembics, cherryleaf-shaped gliders and phaedrus flyers from the dream lathe of Daedalus

Though antient he is ageless, he is the once and future sages

His machines are of yet unseen aeons, pages unturned ‘haps unwritten

We the unwitting in our pitiless cities sit in the heart centre of all that ever will be, and we’ll nuke it all back to nothing

Centuries of glowing rubble funneling us to the basement of the food chain

We fashion godlike armaments, harnessing energies beyond our ken

Forge terrible animate bombs with strength to rubble continents, sent via button

Arms which make this a haunted world

We create the rudiments of undoing

Corechewing drills approach a pyre-smitten, fire-smiled world womb adwindling, grim-toothed leviathan harpoons

Moon-changing terraformations

Fuel for the last extinction, it came fast like first time in ass

Mass oblivion for all mankind, alas his reign ended

His flock dead

Tending shepherd lending tears to rising oceans, covering up the crimes of creation

Sea eaten nations of Atlantis have lasted but now only plastics will see the kraken eat our sun at time’s end

Old wars spreading to new suns like prejudices from fathers to sons.

Flame halo

Night colour of nuclear payload

Sheets of trining lightning strike an airplane

Bluing porthole panes

Hostess at pains to explain dangling masks extending down on lengths of chord

Mirroring a Michael Crichton book cover.

Alchemisland