"The Death of Uncas"

---"But once, we were here." Chingachgook, The last of the Mohicans.

Earth-
Slipping through the forest thickets
Spryly; a springing leopard on the veldt.
Uncas! Unfettered by guilt, debt, or regret,
Seeks his love, his destiny, his own Munro.

Water-
Ancestor Spirit flows in his veins,
The son of the father, a soul without chains.
Uncas! Friend to all that would be free,
Companion to Hawkeye, la long carabine.

Fire-
Duelling with Magua, whose hate burns
Beyond extinction. Felled by a fell blade…
Uncas! Beloved child, friend, and future groom,
Banished from earth to his heavenly tomb.

Air-
Taller than the treetops, swifter than the raven,
Nature spirits mourn the long death plummet of
Uncas! Brave-man, lover of life and the sister
Munro, following her wherever she may go

Above, Below. Love is the artificial horizon.

"The Robot Rapture"

New Old Japan

Started the postmodern love fray-

“Why can’t robot and man

Be married today?”

‘There is no need of divorce,

When your partners possess

On/off switches on the back

Of their neck,”-they profess.

Now the fad has gone amuck.

Robot bill of rights, baptism,

Discount disco night-no end in

Sight for this mechanical schism.

Factions groups demand a stop

To rampant robot intermarriage.

ChromeHead-One chronicled that

“Sorrow powers empty baby carriage.”

(To the credit of society, we didn’t

Enslave the robots with Church edict sing.

Nor did we drive them from their native land.

Mandated kill switches made us king.)

It surprised us all, well not the Jews,

That day the robot souls drifted like fog

To their own gearhead Paradise, leaving

Man to once again clean up after his dog.

"The Lost Song"

Why did you die, McV?

Leaving such a good song
To remain unsung, everlong?
A shame for you, a shame for me.

Sometimes the wind courts

Your lost song’s beat.
Tree limbs tapping feet-
House draft vocals of sorts.

Colorado would’ve loved you.

Unlike your cold Ocoee shroud.
(Artists funeral ne’er draw a crowd.
Less their riches cause great rue.)

Good Friend McV, visit me again.

Sing your song, “The Utopian”
I can’t sing it for me, or any man.
Dance your melody-for my soul’s wan.