Fan Fiction

My fingers, considering
Traveled across the spines
So many, so fine
Needing to feel
Some quality
Straight and narrow
Not papered over
Hard-core

Look at You, there
But out of circulation
Not knowing why
I take you
From the forbidden shelf
Give you my time
Forget to return you
No care for the fine

Bad Fantasy

What the dust

My front doorstep littered
In layers of bravado, force-fields
And might

As if the guardians decided
My heart, prone to thieving
Had stolen their swords
Then taken their jobs

So they quietly left in the night?

The Actual Eternal

A damned good author

Who’ll debate with me well

Yet write lies

Conceived in etherless light reflective

Of darkness and wars neither worth it

Nor won

I’m this fantastic, fantasy-filled flower

Facing somewhere true

Journeying along the narrow path

That bends across the expanse of time

Evergreen, it’s said, and analog

Evidenced by The Actual Eternal