Answers

I fell to my armored knees
in the ochre dust
and dreams of memories
that washed my faceplate,
unbidden, but like fate,
present reality to meet
with wins and defeat.
But the stars had vanished.
My mind, an eater famished,
and the ancient relic
I had come to explore
upon this surreal shore
lay waiting, or was it the source
of this past's reckoning?

I shook my head, to clear
the pictures of a child,
mother so indelibly near,
a father such a comfortable ghost
and I, the time's beaten host.
The tears of my scored progress,
the moon, then this egress
to a world old in the beginning,
as I felt my raucous birth,
my connection to my Earth.
There seemed some tendril questioning,
my right to stand there.

I shouted in my silvered helmet,
I am here and I will stay.
You cannot frighten me, as yet,
As I am whole, despite questions,
unholy sight of your bastions.
I will win, which is the answer,
the devouring, pinnacle cancer,
will suck your technology white.
There is a oneness, imagined end.
For my lovers, open and send.
Remember computer, you are the alien.
I wonder what rivets to unbolt.

So, tell my story to me in color
and shades of black.
Praise to beg me sweet succor,
you have met such a one care,
that earns for nothing but dare
that dates to scratching primevalness,
the roaring realm of humping success.
You have no hope with technology
on the grounds of jackal's paleontology.
We are young and you are dead, first.
We don't want your answers.

� 2000 DPMcClellan