Monday, February 27, 2017



Our static bubble
unfathomable, unassailable,
in a billion lifetimes
we could not cross,
yet someone must live at the edge.

When it looks out at
night, are there stars
only in one direction,
too far to reach, ever?

I read that a new bubbleverse
can pop in
anywhere, anywhen,
swell to gargantuan dimensions,
yet remain to us invisible.

I throw up my hands,
go out,
plant a few marigolds,
check the rose for buds.

Sunday, February 26, 2017


leading her to water

tentative no more, she takes the plunge --
ecstasy in every toss of mane,
His calls unanswered, he must follow suit,
Though suited, he's ill-suited to the game.

she swims beside the boat:
the sea's afire, redolent of all who've swum before.
he rocks, and splashes, thrashing mightily around:
a dried fish who's lost the knack to swim --
she reminds him with a caudal whap!
then swoops to catch him ere he drowns.

she's hard, electric, and her eyes are large
enough to capture everything on film
her genes are freshly pressed and though her flesh is cold,
she fills the sea, he thinks,
her lateral line a G-spot meters long,
chatoyant and yet subtle as her actions bold.

his games a bore, she darts away, she sounds,
her passage rings an infrasonic note,
Mother Sea adpresses, welcomes to the fold,
the world of men's a chain but she's unbound.

failure on the books, his grants now on the wane,
he dreams about the one who got away.

The end

Previously published, in a slightly different form, in Chaos Butterfly, 1998.


hello Lady Banks
whoever you were
rose, meet dawn

Scifaiku going digital

Inverted Folk

I published this tiny collection of scifaiku in 2012 as a trifold brochure. It's all my own work (except a photo [Sheila Kopaska-Merkel] and the brochure design [F. J. Bergmann]), and many of the poems appeared nowhere else. It includes a photomicrograph, taken by me, of weird and alien creatures. If you want a pdf, it's free for the asking: jopnquog at

Saturday, February 25, 2017


A quick garden update. Four of our six different roses are now in bloom. A new daffodil variety has joined in, and the white azaleas are exploding with the absence of color. Almost everywhere you look in our yard you see flowers. If nothing else, the small white cups of the wild onions are littering the grass, and dandelions range from buds to seed heads.


the hungry ant

too fat to scurry
too unqueenly to mother a brood
but she could eat:
bread, steak, beets, sauce
dishes, tables, bread box, books
walls, floor, pillars and posts
-- there was no stopping her
planets, moon, pebbles, dust...
she came to the sun
opened wide


too late, we realized
the sculpted meals
were the real deal
the giant diners immobilized
the only sculpting
"plastic" surgery