Viral Prince (a poem)

by William Skink

the Prince of Virus snarled and spit
99 years - I'm tired of it!
lets stretch out this mortal coil
open cubes and watch seas boil

impatient Prince, that's not the plan
first find the seeds, prepare the land
we process them so they know
helping their abilities grow

and why do we do this, silly Prince?
leaving signs and helpful hints?
your body clock has run its course
time to go recharge your force

the Prince of Virus sighed, resigned
to let his body clock unwind
ok, bearer of the earthly crown
roll the mummies through our town!

99, this run was fun
I'll now return to the black hole sun...

yes you will, you viral Prince
their body sleeves, our fingerprints
that's the plan, the programmed show

this is why
they have
to know

About Travis Mateer

I'm an artist and citizen journalist living and writing in Montana. You can contact me here: willskink at yahoo dot com
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