In Which I Ponder The Next Big One

As long as just one planet is our home,

Our legacy is hostage to its whims.

We've changed a lot, change still more as we roam

It surface. But lo, how our prospect dims.

We burn on through the fuel that's easiest

To use to go beyond this atmosphere,

This gravity, and with it burn our best,

Perhaps our final hope of leaving here

As we are now, bipeds with hair and hands

And hearts of flesh. Will only memes escape?

Some fragile proof that we were more than bands

Of a tool-using, hooting, talking ape?

Today an earthquake shook our world anew

And we went surfing on the waves it threw.

Sonnet Dare: In Which I Flirt With Trapping Myself In My Own Brain Loop

My expectations, met by District Nine

And yet not met... now just what does that mean?

This query, posed to me today online

Set me upon a path that, sight unseen

Is surely dangerous for me to tread.

Just as the centipede's dilemma does

Pose quite a threat to my poor tender head,

A hoops snake's shape looms also, just because

I try now to recall just what they were,

Those expectations I had, going in

To see the film. 'Tis tricky, memory:

I think back on my hopes with much chagrin,

Is what I think I hoped changed now, for me,

By what the actual exper'ience brought?

My circuits overload; my brain grows hot.