I am a Science Fiction addict,
I am a Sci-Fi addict-true ,
I come alive in Its possibilities,
of thrills and spills and wills
of Its atmospheres … into the fears of All.
Showing us all is well. … All is well?

Well, yes. Sci-Fi is alive, it diverges,
it creates and abates and aggravates our senses.
It promises much and It gives Its All. It
teaches and reaches into our souls,
courage and worship and monstered halls
of calamity’s remembered nuances of
Nothing. It’s so bizarre, so bizarre… Love
that word, it is All, and then some.

I watch Sci-Fi, and my mind goes free,
I try to recalculate eternity, but,
it’s not that simple, as a thought,
as a string, as energy…

Giant spiders roam my dreams,
actualized in eternity, but, whose?
Mine? Did I decide War was the norm
for sentient creatures planet-borne?
Can I parallel myself? I want to…

Become that other ... we all do,
we weep for this,
ache for that/this/you-must-be
‘other’ reality.
And, as I ache for all-everything,
and more, I want
my Daddy back… He died,
not from an outer war, but from
alcoholism, one of Humanity's
inner wars.

There are mysterious ways and days
of dark, defeated by light
caroling the fright we hold inside,
until, the crescendo builds,

and, collapses, relapses, reclaims
congratulations of Itself on
stimulation of activation
of the recreation and purification of
absolution of a portion of
Humanity’s Me’s…

Period.

Dot.

End.

So, to recept the conception of
value of my reality, I must…

concept?

Oh, yeah, that’s cool, that’s right up
my small-town alley of nighttime frights
when walking home from a friends.

I am incensed with the stupidity
which links our eternal morbidity…

to Us.

These thoughts of self-impunity, are
subject to change, as change occurs.

Without any periods, dots or ends.

Period.

Dot.

End?

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
© Copyright 7/17/05