Tales of Paradise City

Wrestling to vent my umbrella,
the wedge of essays under my arm
steadily moistening,
I’m all but struck by a bicycle.
The rider swerves, swears,
I stand in the road, winded,
when through my brolly’s clear plastic,
mingling with the rain,
translucent pods,
dropping fast in all directions,
like a clean start. 

I’ve been living so long
with my smooth-faced friends
the idea of cohabiting with
another human seems quite
unnatural. Is it biology,
the dead skin cells, the
waste matter? Everything
runs like clockwork here
and when I close my door
I stand at the heart of silence
but for the hum of a charger,
the cough of robotic limbs.

noun 

1. inhabitant of Paradise City
2. one who aspires to live in Paradise City
3. future nostalgic
4. slang drug addict 

The Beacon has been transmitting
for millennia from the far side
of Mercury. How its sound waves
enter our atmosphere is still
unknown. In Chinese it is called
Little Bell. The Spanish claim
its chimes have vital properties.
Orbit’s uncalculated; signal
strength varies. During the war,
reports state it was heard
by the wounded at daybreak,
but this is open to doubt. 

Don’t get me wrong,
very handy for exact
calculations, plotting
a path to the closest rig,
and hard-working too,
if I could hire such quality
people -

but when you meet one
claiming to love live Blues,
or slipping into church,
don’t give me any hogwash
about living tissue,
how can it not know
what it is?

Only the first few decades
in deep space, they tell you.
I swear it’s been more.
Maybe willing cogs don’t notice.
Give me a love implant, it’s
cheap, synthetic, so what?
It will freight me along
for another light year.
When I was a child I spoke
as a child. Now I’m a man
all I talk of is retiring. 

Born miners, like me, he says,
Next time I’ll let you program the drill,
as we watch the enormous sun set,
and the spaceships’ hourly show. 

My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is personal 
My idea of myself is biological
My idea of myself is …  

Cerulean balconies,
ships sheer as icicles,
sick flicks, palm tattoos,
dream tanks, shadow bars,
ground level snakes
(natural-light-free),
Viper Park, always,
by the Centauri dump,
Jess, Vera, me,
feeding the fire,
tale-telling.