, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Writing Prompt: Write a poem with a title drawn from one of the spaceship names from or inspired by Ian-M-Banks.

Happy Idiot Talk

There’s a man that walks between the lines
His reality never waits
For if there is a discrepancy
He’s sure to walk right through the gates

He conforms not to our reality
For he bought his very own
It’s rough around the edges, but it’s his, and his alone –
It was but a dollar ninety-nine from that very pleasant drone

His world constantly transitions from one state to another
Yet he never falters once in any of his discretion
So in the early morning he lies his head to sleep
For later in the evening, he’ll return to jumping in the deep

If queried what his world was like
He’d likely tell you this
It’s round and then it’s flat
It’s total and sweet bliss

The Achanids and Hophlands
They run and spring and play
Amongst the other dwellers
The tellers and the spellers

The weather’s never green up here
Instead a magnificient light pink hue
And we mustn’t ever perch on rocks
It could really be a fox

If you wish to get somewhere
And walking takes too long
Close your eyes and hop away
Perhaps hum a little song

Be wild and be zealous
For there isn’t another way to live
Jump headfirst into pipe dreams
Then rip apart the seams

Be kind to every turtle’s neck
They’re always stretching far
Avoid those that are lost and listless
Sometimes they lack purpose

And finally he’ll tell you
He’ll whisper in your ear
That things are always changing
But there is nothing here to fear