You called me selfish.
For a long time I felt guilty,
until I turned you from a victim
into a villain.

As the anger has faded
from the lights of an ambulance
into the dull, neon red glow of an
emergency exit sign,
I have begun to realize that

you saw me as the bad guy, too.
You probably still do,
and maybe I am selfish,
and maybe I want to apologize,

but what if they're all right
and you were just trying to
get me to say sorry?
What if you're just dying to
see me come crawling back to you?
I don't want you to think
I need you,
because I don't,

but I'm not selfish,
and I don't want you to think so.

i wish you were here with me,
so distance wouldn't be my biggest fear.

d.l.b.

Darling I can’t find a word to describe you…
But I can find three
Overpriced. Airport. Coffee.
You have an inflated self ego like the over priced liquid
Airports try to pass off as coffee
The brew tastes as watered down as your originality
And honey if I’m honest
I shouldn’t even compare you to coffee
Because that might be the greatest sin of all

Against too many writers of science fiction

Why did you lure us on like this,
Light-year on light-year, through the abyss,
Building (as though we cared for size!)
Empires that cover galaxies
If at the journey's end we find
The same old stuff we left behind,
Well-worn Tellurian stories of
Crooks, spies, conspirators, or love,
Whose setting might as well have been
The Bronx, Montmartre, or Bedinal Green?

Why should I leave this green-floored cell,
Roofed with blue air, in which we dwell,
Unless, outside its guarded gates,
Long, long desired, the Unearthly waits
Strangeness that moves us more than fear,
Beauty that stabs with tingling spear,
Or Wonder, laying on one's heart
That finger-tip at which we start
As if some thought too swift and shy
For reason's grasp had just gone by?