June 4, 2019

The Personal Probe

What does it say when your day

Begins with a prostate exam

And then proceeds to get worse?

When the moth circling the flame,

Or the condemned man's fate,

Seem better as a matter of course?

My veins have never looked so appealing,

Raised, ready and revealing

A path so direct and perverse.

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The Professional Probe

All of our subjects

Need to be subjected to the scrutiny

Of dissection and direction.

What went wrong?

Our discourse takes us off course

Of what we need them to discover.

Our discontent swallows our content

That is meant to be dispensed.

Our distraction undermines our traction

To provide them their discipline.

As we go from dissed to pissed,

We sacrifice our elevated distance.

We left the lessons at the lecterns,

Took our positions to the posts.

Made our situations less sensible

And our sanctimony more exposed.

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The Universal Probe

Will we find intelligent life,

Or will it find us?

When analysis meets hypothesis,

Will aliens go "what the fuck is this?"

When craft land and humans stand

With one hand behind the back,

Will a cosmic laugh explode

While some stranger's prod

Directs us as defective and bad

To be sold in some distant flea mart?