The Stealing of the Quark

ALIBI: the things’s too small to steal.
REACH the last guard post, swipe past,
ACRID fear that he’ll be searched. But then: through!
QUARK spins quarkily, nestled in his pocket, or one galaxy away, or both.


ADMIN wants you to try out this
BRAND of soap for a week; their
FAITH in Advertising, who prefer dry to
MOIST toiletries, has gone downhill rapidly.

The Fragility of Libraries

MOISTure brings rot as though time were digesting the books.
BRANDs of fire transform in a night’s evil work: knowledge and beauty now ash.
FAITH must master despair to face the battle against entropy.
ADMINinistration channeling hope as measures to guard and preserve.


You’re the
FIBRE in my oatmeal; the
SUGAR in my tea; so I wrote this little
DITTY that begins with C,E,G. Now that’s a pretty simple
TRIAD for this song I’m calling “Doodad.”

Like as to like

TRIAD in the pop song from my childhood, which at best must be called a
DITTY, is a constant, the other chords pulled back to it repeatedly, like me to
SUGAR in my overall diet. A few weeks dry and I fall off the wagon. FIBRE I eat aplenty, but sugar is an earworm of a ditty with an irritating triad.