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                                         A Convolution In Her
                                             by Will Dockery

As you fly in your little red space station,
remember me.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution.
We both had our high tech cars, Plymouth,
patriotic emblems, mojo rise, drink some medicine.
This torrid confederacy, this torn nation,
you tickled my back with fingernails,
politicians making offers.
You fly in your little red satellite,
a country doctor's job, mixing medicine,
between jaunts in the solar system.
A pimp rastaman forcing me to sacrifice,
held the rain for a human ransom,
another crewmember disappeared.
And I flew off,
I went off into space with a gold robot bird.
Undercover, crash down,
a small little ghost story in Summerville.
Thunderbag in trouble again,
dark castle in bright hot Lee County.
Wiped out, crashed out,
low expectations, it's to the point,
where I wish I'd never admitted loving you.
But I still do.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution.
Great expectations, pink dawn glistens,
she stopped for years in 1992,
my hot breeze seemed to awaken her.
Pookie and Puck and Dark Man,
your friends in need, night visitors.
A madman with stolen phasers,
he interviewed the suspects and fell in love again.
Zapping down the crewmen,
forget me not beautiful friend.
Harmonic Fractal Convolution, outside Shadowville,
are the castles where we discussed the catastrophe.
He creates artificial fractal ice crystals,
blind eye for hire, I hunt the sphere of destiny.
Crazy, crashed down, her tits like ripe melons,
she says they should kill the Christ Buddha.
People on the coast, desperados in green,
the rat pack met the wise guys she is the go between.
Look at the ocean so silver,
watch the black cat run.
Kittens walk on her back, she lay naked, open wide,
she has night eyes, a late night itch.
The Dark Man stalks so quiet and bold,
I am by the trees waiting, I feel fear and loathing.
Once a thief, runs his fingers into her charms,
she carried his red mark.
CanÕt hardly wait, crashed out,
city sins and a wide open country.
Broadway runaround, trigger effect, you make me wait forever.
A convoluted ceremony of pleasure,
bringing bad things, the human drive to create new life,
like mosquitos we suck and stuff your dark hungers.


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A Convolution In Her is copyright 1998 by Will Dockery