September 6th, 2007

On the arrival of a new copy of ASF

It may be a sign of age or something
But the first thing I turn to when a copy of Asimov's SF arrives
Is the poetry

It is only in the form of poetry
That the arrival of the evil magenta cyber-badgers from Omicron Seven
Intent on stealing our women,
And woodpeckers

Until thwarted
In the final stanza
By our perky
Yet pouty

Can still speak to us in a nonironic fashion

Or perhaps
After all this time on teh interwebs
And the Tartrazine and Sunset Yellow

or 'jump juice' as we are now calling them

(kudos for that to bopeepsheep)

My attention span
Very short