By David Edwards
When Time reaches its
pivot, and falls back
upon itself, History
becomes Prophecy… that which
was will be again.
garbage of old Earth
recycled into new myths
heroes made of junk
By DJ Tyrer
The Plague of Plagiarism
By Mark Hudson
By the time the Sumerians
developed writing in cuneiform,
they were being robbed by librarians
who poisoned them with chloroform.
The Phoenicians did better yet,
they created a new alphabet.
But the Greeks became demonic,
that’s why were all hooked on phonics.
Greek drama evolved in Athens,
and they also had many laugh-ins.
Each writer borrowed from the other,
these brothers from another mother.
Switching to the Medieval,
the times were mostly evil.
King Arthur and the Round Table,
can now be seen on your cable.
Gutenberg created the printing press,
and books became a success.
He was a thief from overseas,
he stole the idea from the Chinese.
And ever since the early days,
writers have stolen in many ways.
In the golden age of science fiction,
plagiarism became an affliction.
No one penned more than Asimov,
but everybody rips him off.
Who can write like Bradbury?
His tales once seemed so scary.
What used to be just fantasy
is now becoming reality.
Nothing new under the sun,
as life on earth isn’t much fun.
Recycle till there is nothing left,
like a sad, musical cleft.
Till the scorecard begins to read zero,
and the villain is now the new hero.
But new writers will come soon,
with brand new outlooks on the moon.
Right now, they may be in their womb,
I hope the world will leave them some room.
God of Sea
By Clive Donovan
It was as if the God of sea himself rose up
Streaming from his shoulders, weed and attendant fish;
Commanding, with stiff trident, waves and foam and tide.
We always knew he was down in there somewhere deep,
Receiving shoals, directing whales and dolphins,
Dealing with plastic chemical gifts from land.
But now he’d had enough and in his wrath divine,
Roaring with the force of a tsunami, he wept:
Great salt tears plopped wetly on the seaside towns
And the people died, scrabbling, in scum of sea.
World of Waste
By Mark Hudson
In the not too distant future, the Earth was a mess,
a dumpster world full of trash and stress.
The ozone layer left people breathless and dead,
they decided to live on the Moon instead.
The first people to go were the elite,
the one percent reserved their seat.
They had garbage and recycling bins,
where the poor dug from once again.
They built the first MacDonalds on the Moon,
and one was coming to Jupiter soon.
In order to compete, Burger king,
built a bigger restaurant with bling.
But vegans wanted to just eat plants,
but gardens were destroyed by space ants.
There were roaches left from a nuclear war,
they put them in a missile, and sent them to Thor.
An insect free universe, was the hope,
but without French fries, no one could cope.
Some of the pioneers just ate capsules,
that might’ve tasted like pears and apples.
But the astronauts said, “Are you ready?
We’re going to the moon, ain’t no spaghetti!
There ain’t going to be pizza either,
nor any aspirin for a pain reliever!”
So eventually, they recruited cooks,
and recruited woman for their looks.
And casinos and whorehouses were brought,
not a single church had been sought.
Pretty soon the moon was a waste,
just like earth, a din of bad taste.
When would the moon be destroyed as well?
Why did it so quickly become a hell?
Well the politicians came, promising lots,
but people just stood around, smoking pot.
The protests were useless, everybody died,
the Moon was an embarrassment to hide!
So they started to send people to Jupiter,
and of course it made people stupider.
But it wasn’t anybody’s fault at all,
we are all descendants of the Neanderthal!
Colosseum 2.0; or, Amphitheatrum Futurium
By Harris Coverley
dried into a salt desert —
yet in the middle
gladiators fight again
for the last of Man’s glory