I USB U *story of a noun turned into a verb

 

I lost my USB

I looked everywhere

Even up the birch tree

And if I had it on me swimming in the 

Dead Sea

The Salt would have erased its memory

I texted all my friends to be 

BOLO     (be on the lookout)

My USB had an illustration of a 

Golden Y 

Nothing to do with my name Ubaldo

It had

A terrabyte -or two

As its memory had a thousand pictures

Anonymous faces 

Unlike those seen in police manhunts

Faces and pixellated faces

Provocatively unveiled

That Chuck Close could often paint

And hang with one nail.

I USB U

Love

"CO2 you too!"

She repeated in his dreams

Breathless

Nothing demeaning

My

Sore eyeballs streaming

Over irrecognizable body parts

The FBI  alerted

For a few bitchy bitcoins 

Hidden in the key

Given their wobbly market disequilibrium 

Might as well ask a woodchuck to  estimate their value

You, U USBed me

Love

Your notes  

On giving antibiotics to Bees

 To build hives back better asap

And Bob, your boyfriend, had USBed me

In 2003

All those notes 

Still I failed the degree

Because some of the docs on Bees had no merit 

And some of the docs had less than no merit

I was USBed 

Peed 

Didn't know what to feel

With all the memory overflow.

Chaos Vaccine

It's been two months

Since the time that he replaced his windshield wipers

And every time they would swash 

He would scream hogwash

Bob was so upset 

'Cause they weren't wiping correctly

And out of wiper fluid

Bob added  mouth wash 

Which did the job but cost a fortune

Bob scrolled for hours, days, months, on the web

To try to understand why his wipers didn't wipe

Leaving terrible unforgiving streaks on 

His windshield meaning that while driving 

He

Either had to look over or under the streak

A trail of un-wiped water

Similar to the trail of a slug

Except it was dangerous.

His life was unravelling

Like the yarn of a knitted sweater

Often late to work

He was given several warnings

"You're not doing your job, Bob!"

"You're taking too long, Bob!"

So he went to the doctor 

He explained

How

Seemingly due to one windshield wiper

His life had taken a turn

The doctor, from behind her glasses

Pushed "Enter" on her keyboard 

And said: "You appear to have ChaosChrom22

It's a form of Chaos

That typically starts with a meaningless event 

That

Balloons, inflates into something magnanimously disturbing."

The doctor once again pushed "Enter"

and said,

"I have a dose I will give to you right away."

Licking her upper lip from left to right which made Bob think of his 

Windshield Wiper

After the shot

Bob trotted out of the office

Still feeling distraught 

He wondered why Science didn't put him in

The Comfort Zone

He wondered if the Science was eluding him or Science was Chaotic?

Was not ChaosChrom22 a manifestation 

Of a State of Exaggeration

That had no place in society?

Hence, Bob deduced

Chaos was an outcast

Not to be embraced 

Rather fettered with manicles

 Chains swinging and ringing like

Disgruntled bells

Raging

Bob drove home in the rain

Looking above and under the streak of water

That wasn't wiping  properly

He thought of the doctor pushing "Enter"

He wanted to

But didn't know how.

Come Catch Chaos *

Behold!

It's not in my sauce

A posse

Who thinks Chaos is a toss?

(The French would say, it's fausse)

For Camus to be absurd or chaotic was a toss

Fractals, the butterfly effect

(How a butterfly flapping its wings in Brazil can

Cause a tornado in Texas)

Chaotic, absurd, surreal?

When a person of such leanings is considered a

Jerk

One has to adjust the parameters in a non-linear system 

To instill "hyper-jerk" conditions.

The posse of an entertainer trekking across

Icelandic Moss

Wearing from head to toe

Hugo Boss

This is before WWI

When bloody apple sauce filled the trenches

And the Red Cross was just a tick under the skin

They,

They, are always in my thoughts

So I take a crayon in a cow house and draw

1/2 Pie RCµ

According to Berkhoff, Kolmogorov, Cartwright and Littlewood,

A jerk can only be turbulent in fluid motion

Yet when in non-periodic oscillation with radio circuits

The subject withstands what is sub-understood

If you think and earthquake is chaotic then

Try to eat a Mars bar with organic Ginsing,

Then walk on a tightrope that on respective sides is held by

A Fascist and a Liberal

Stop in the middle of the walk and write a new Chaos Theory that

Involves shadow water equations, the "non-ripple" effect and the 

Brazilian butterfly effect that this time, creates a tornado in Alaska instead of

Texas.

It may be possible to conclude that taking into account robotic passive walking dynamics 

Implying robots can walk and then walk some more

A topsy-turvy tumultuous knitting of a multicoloured Missoni yarn beyond 

34.42 km in length,

With no apparent structure

No sleeves or neck

Is a best seller 

For Consumer Digest.

*Elements of this poem are taken directly from the Theory of Chaos

Deep sea fish exploration

Ray was always afraid of going for the dive.

"I  believe in Panspermia*, mom, not this deep hydrothermal vent gibberish you keep talking about."

Dory, a patient mom, took a deep breath, "Dear, dear Ray. Remember what your father said: you are a fish. And the origin of life comes from down there." she said, pointing down with her pectoral fin as she opened her mouth wide. 

"You are old enough to know the elements in chemistry class," she went on, "deep-sea vents spew out bitter alkaline fluid, which is rich in negatively charged hydroxide ions, and that can be the basis for creating life as we know it." 

Mom, you have the memory of a Goldfish. If you look atsugars, and the molecules required to form RNA, we know they can be produced in space. 

"I can't let you off the hook with that Panspermia, or spermia gibberish. Any life riding on the back of a meteorite would be zapped to death with UVs, asta la vista go your RNA Ray. I suggest we go on a deep sea dive so I can show you first hand what life is out there on the bottom of the ocean."

"You hit a snag, mom. You know I'm claustrophobic, and getting into a Bathysphere is the last place you'll see me."

"Didn't you say last month you wanted "The Angler" for your Christmas present?"

"Yes, but you said I would have to pass marine biology at school"

"Well, I'll get it for you but let's go on the Bathysphere!"

Dory was a forward-thinking mom, she had already reserved a Bathysphere for the next day.

*Panspermia is the concept that life may have originated elsewhere in the universe and reached Earth through space travel, potentially by microorganisms or even advanced extraterrestrial beings.

EPRS (Emergency Phone Rescue Service)

 

FEMA has decided to create a new agency, the EPRS or Emergency Phone Rescue Service, pronounced "Ehpurrs".  If your phone is lost in a hurricane, earthquake, nuclear meltdown or other, EPRS will send out a specially trained team to recover it. 

EPURS is the first emergency rescue service to train duckbill platypus to recover phones.

"It was suggested at a meeting a few years ago and most of us didn't take it seriously" said Conrad Jeffries, the head of EPRS. However, we quickly learned to appreciate its slim body and duckbill beak which made it ideal in recovering phones in tight spots. To top it it's a great swimmer... the results have been amazing."

Back

I never broke my back

But Back back back

I once tried taking a wheelbarrow to

Move memories 

Forward only to see the 

Tire looking flat.

Howz your back?

Back when

In a Frida Kahlo  painting 

Her broken back intact

Unhealing

Not an act for anyone toI enact 

Today my crunched back flies with

The bats

And Rats

Cozy up to gnaw

On nerve endings 

How sweet

In a forest an Alpha leader of a wolf pack

Howls and 

Howls

Nearby fluttering bats squeak

Ultrasound waiting for

Echos to resound back

-No questions asked, if it's your snack.

Today I hear 39 taps

On the dark cold window pane

Dancing taps from white moths

Bouncing off my window

I stretch my neck like a flamingo

Remembering childhood fears of 

Turning off all the lights.

 

Tupperware in Cyprus

 

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• There is no Tupperware in Cyprus

It's not because of a retrovirus

Evidence states

Tupperware parties didn't take

On the island of Cyprus

Where they love to bake

Sheftali - a wrap  of its own 

And legend goes a song too

"Sheftali, sheftali

I love you cause you have no brocoli"

Makarios once said,

"Without Sheftali, I'd be dead and 

we would still be eating fish and chips".

Tupperware parties didn't take on Cyprus

Women's rights perhaps were at stake

And selling a plastic container with a double sealed lid

Could have upset El Sid

You say, the amphora was fine for Afelia,

It's not just memorabilia 

Both men and women used amphoras

Dressed in photogenic agora

Never giving a middle finger to Ankara

"We don't want no fucking Tupperware"

Echoed the Cypriots from 

Famagusta to Paphos

Our Sheftalies, Souvia and Fasolada

Is fresh as any Muslim or Christian may confess

Could all that Polypropylene 

add any dopamine to the Cyprus Scene?

Confess Cyprus, confess!

There is no Tupperware on this island

And you will miss it

Forever SMS.

Pig Sardines

Could Sardines come from pigs?

Chance, a black labrador, was having a dream

True, his belly was full chappagetti

(A Korean noodle dish rich in pork) and

Sardine leftovers that Sammy, his master's 9 year old

Secretly let him slurp up under the table during a formal dinner 

Party the night before.

Chance was in a trance: he rolled over on his back

And imagined he was swimming with sardines

And pigs

And pigs and sardines together 

His stomach had surrendered when

He remembered his mother Celine with her green eyes

She woofed joyfully when he crossed a stream at the age of 13 months.

But she said: "Never eat sardine, dogs don't need Omega 5."

Shaken, Chance rubbed his nose onto the carpet

He could still smell the pork and sardines that had dripped into the fabric

His brain went spinning, almost out of control

If only he had a washbowl with a slice of lemon

He could clean his paws.

 

Weird

Weird has been around, Dr. Demento on KPPC FM started in 1970

Still we must ask: "Are we getting weirder or is

Weird getting weirder?"

And, "How weird can weird get?"

Would you auction

An old man's beard?

Would you profiteer from a

Bioengineer making durable toothbrushes?

Could you give away a Dali painting 'cause the 

Sheep have folded bat ears?

That's weird.

Radiohead's infamous Creep wasn't weird but

"Weirdo"

A personal first person pronoun rant

Displaying a character expelled from the Heavens for

He shall have no chance to shoot a Cupid arrow of love

Ya gotta be SPECIAL for that.

Still, if you had a concerto of weirdos

They would cancel each other out

Becoming dull, familiar, just regular run of the mill

So how can you be SPECIAL and not weird?

Start by taking off that awful veneer.

Weird fishes

I get eaten by the worms
And weird fishes
Picked over by the worms
And weird fishes
Weird fishes
Weird fishes

Hah

This poem is inspired from when I sent a comic to my nephew showing a gang of gangsters who were thinking about going to the Supreme Court to see if perhaps their next heist was legal. I was expecting a resounding "Hah hah" but my nephew texted back with a single "Hah!"

Hah!

This was no blah blah

Hah! A first look at the Mona Lisa

Hah hah!

To the student who wore shorts breaking a sacred dress code.

This Hah! came after

Grandma 

Who cut herself with a chainsaw!

Born in Warsaw

She was better with an axe

She taught me how to eat flax

Ahah!

Jakup, her grandson was surprised

Babunia, he called her 

"How can you see with that hair in your eyes?"

Hah! 

"And cut a tree at the same time?" 

Hah!

Then Babunia wiped the blood off her arm, pulled the starter cord

That went

Rah-ta-ta-tah!!!

Darwin Jr. and the Evolution of the Doughnut

 

The Serial Slingshot Shooter and Joey Chestnut Soyadogs

Pull, aim and shoot!

Prince King did it better than anyone else. 

2472 broken windows

871 broken windshields

No human victims

The Serial Slingshot Shooter prevailed

He stirred a quiet neighbourhood like the stirring of a 

Pot of risotto

And they quivered like a Tremolo between notes

Waiting for the next aggression.

Prince King prevailed

The Serial Slingshot Shooter shot his pellets at all hours

For over a period of 12 years

After his arrest the court ordered that he stay 200 yards away from all his neighbours, 

Yet he would have needed to move to Alaska to fulfil that order. 

Theories about his motivation still abound.

Was he a slingshot shooter shot by an abusive parent?

Did he evolve from a peashooter sticking spitballs on the ceiling of his public school

To a crack window shatter-er

Who seemingly started his undertaking after retirement?

True, his job was a quality control manager for 

An elastic company

Making everything from rubber bands to 

Industrial belts for Harley Davidsons

Nothing drastic his coworkers said he wasn't enthusiastic 

But respected the stretch of rubber with a beady eye

When the police searched the 2 bedroom home of 

Prince King

They found an upside down picture of slingshot

A model showing a couple embracing

Was this part of his subterfuge? It worked: his neighbours thought he was a sweetheart

Only Prince lived alone... having lost his wife, his heart was in shambles.

After he died a kook put a sign in his lawn, it said:

"It' all about Joey Chestnut!"

A crazy conspiracy. Could the Serial Slingshot Shooter have been upset when 

Nathan's banned

Joey Chestnut

From the Hotdog contest

Because he decided to eat SOYADOGS?

Crazy,  but the mystery remains.

Darwin Jr. notes for a local play*

 

*A nod in this short play is given to Ionesco's Rhinoceros.

Scene one. 

We are in the woods of Montana and Darwin's grandson, Edwin, is working on his masterpiece, on the Origin of Doughnuts, 2.

With his binoculars, safari hat and coffee, he has a square toast that he cannot dunk properly into the coffee.Suddenly, a noise is heard and a giant White Rhino appears, running with 2 doughnuts on it horn. As it runs by, one of the doughnuts falls off its horn. Edwin Darwin is aghast and moves to examine the find.

"I can't believe it. "Doughnutus Taurus Popatum Maximumus" an early doughnut!

This specimen has likely travelled from the Euphrates river, making its way over the Atlantic in a skiff.

We have to take it to the lab." Darwin wraps up the doughnut and leaves.

Scene II

We are at the lab. Edwin Darwin is with his trusted assistant, Dr. Bagel. One of the audience will assist: the will have 3 signs: when they hold up A, the audience will say, "Well of all things", when they hold up B, they will say, "It's never too late" and when it's C, "Concentrate!".

Edwin Darwin: "Dr Bagel, have u ever seen such a specimen???"

Dr. Bagel: "It's fascinating, Dr Darwin. I can't believe we still have traces of cinnamon on its crust."

E.D. "This is a very evolved doughnut Dr. Bagel. Take note of its roundness, its symmetry."

D.B. I admit I have never seen such a rounded doughnut. It is so round I feel there must be a purpose for it.

E.D. I remember reading Egyptian scrolls and my grandfathers observations on the Gallapagos, which spoke about dunking take out coffee."

Telephone rings: Erwin Darwin, MS, MES, PHD, speaking?

E.D. What? A coffee,  doughnut, this is not a coffee shop, who are you?

Pause

E.D. A Rhinoceros? Are u joking? (E.D. hangs up.) Can u believe, speaking to D.B. that that was a Rhino on the line?

D.B. A prank, for sure.

E.D. Right, absolutely, now where were we?

D.B. We were talking about "Dunking take-out coffee? What could that mean?"

E.D. I have no idea.

D.B. And if it meant this? -D.B. takes Edwin's doughnut and dunks it in his coffee.

E.D. What did u do?

D.B. I just dunked your doughnut. (Silent narrator speaks: this it the first time a doughnut has been dunked for mankind! E.D. Breaks his doughnut in 2 and they both dunk and eat their doughnuts trying to talk about syllogisms with their mouths full.) "If there are no Rhinos in France, and Rhinos live on doughnuts, then there are no real doughnuts in France."

They talk over each other, repeating "dunking" and "no Rhinos" and "doughnuts". 

E.D. Let's get serious. This Doughnutus Taurus Popatum Maximumus, is one of a kind. In a TickTok post, dated 8th century BC, there was mention of serial slingshot shooter, Prince Raymond Rex.

D.B. Yes, of course, "Raymond the Rex".

E.D. Takes the Rhino doughnut and hangs it on the kiln. Then he back off, takes a slingshot and starts shooting paper balls through the hole.

Audience is invited to participate, and donut is made to swing. 

D.B. Dang. That's sick as hell!

E.D. According to Homer, Principus Raymond Rex was not only considered the first Queer King, but a great hunter. I hence stipulate that early Doughnuts were for target practice, for hunting.

D.B. And today we dunk!

Suddenly the giant Rhino reappears. It takes the doughnut and runs off

Suddenly the Rhino reappears, grabs the doughnut with its horn, and runs out to the street and out of sight. Dr. Bagel and Erwin Darwin, one carrying a spear and the other a butterfly net, run out in hot pursuit.

End of performance.

E.D. Let's follow it!

D.B. Careful Edwin, it has Bad Breath!

The brave 2 evolutionary researchers run out to the street and disappear into the horizon.

237 texts between a teenage Bagel and a Doughnut*

 *Inspired by Eric Clapton's love for Pattie Boyd and his son Layla.

** 237 is the average number of texts teens send to each other per day.

A bagel and a doughnut have met on social media only.

Dearest D,  (text #31, 7:20 am)

I wanted to say from the first day that I set eyes on you on Insta,  you were the one. Never have a touch such a soft, bouncy, dough ball, and with a hole in it!

Greasy but not too greasy, can expand, swell in size whilst dunked, your talents exceeds all my expectations! So dope!

Dear, Dear B (text #55, 8:58 am)

Thank you for your sweet words, so Gucci.

When my Uncle said I should marry a bagel I thought he was joking.

But when I imagined meeting u in Philadelphia, u were smiling at me, with that white, pure smear of cream cheese, gently smeared between your halves, looking at me with such pure sincerity that my donut walls were about to burst.

Beloved D, (text #74 10:17 am)

It seems like an eternity since we last spoke. TBH 237 text messages a day are just not enough. It all goes so fast. Send me more pictures, recount feeling of how it is to be dunked in hot coffee 100 times a day. Just because I'm a bagel doesn't mean that I won't understand.

Yours always,

Da Bagel

My "so sick Bagel", (text # 90, 11:10 am)

You make me out to be a hero, in text #158 you compared me to Beowulf

but you should know my skin is not as thick as his.  However, you, having had your

doughy self boiled and then backed, are a true warrior whose courage never ceases to impress me.

If I were a bagel, I would ride over the highest peaks, put myself at the disposal of shipwreck victims of the Titanic. You can do so with a wave of cream cheese, YOLO.

My only Doughnut, (text # 114, 11:53 am)

It has been a busy morning. One of my colleagues was insulted because a client said he was so hard that she called him a "Jurassic Bagel". People are so unforgiving these days. Do they even know, how, 60,000 years ago Bagels looked like? (Hint, we were not round.) I hope those who dunk you know what they have between their fingers.

Thinking of you always,

xo

BAY-GEL! (text #115, 11:54 am)

That is sooo insulting! But we get lots of attitude as well in this business. Once I had some nail varnish drip onto my cinnamon crust and I almost passed out. Know that however crusty you may be on the outside, I know you're all mush on the inside.

My sweetest Dough-Dough, (text #162, 2:05 pm)

Lunchtime just zapped by today. Texting you and smearing the creme cheese made the rush go by even smoother. How did I manage for so long not knowing that a doughnut soulmate was out there supporting me? My life was Vanilla.

Yours always, 

Big B

Big B (text #177, 2:58 pm)

I almost choked on my own doughnut because the last 23 texts were so emotional. No one has ever made me feel that way. I think when we meet I will let u roll on top of me, but just for a minute, I first want you to meet my parents before this gets more serious.

My only D (text #178, 2:59 pm)

Of course one minute would be even too much! Who do you think I am? I would never take advantage of you, but it would be nice to see if our holes align. Please, give me the names of your parents so I can write them a text.

My hot, fierce B-flame, (text #212, 4:17 pm)

I have had to take a little nappy, I was feeling dough-nutted out.

Dad is Morris and mom is Carmelita. They are both from Queens but mom

is from Columbia where they make Buñuelos, sweet like a doughnut but...

(text #213, 4:17 pm) I know Buñuelos, my friend from Honduras made them!

(text #214, 4:18 pm) Yes, but they're Columbian, way better!

My sprinkles from Paradise, (text 221, 4:56 pm)

It's so nice to talk about Buñuelos, my Doughnut Pie!

I will text your mom, we have sooo much in common, it's sick!

Sweet Bagel Aladin, (text 230, 6:21 pm)

Your text to mom was so dope she was on fire; had to get extinguisher.

She says she's ready to put u in the constitution, "Doughnuts love Bagels forever".

My curvaceous CEO, (tex 234, 7:40 pm)

Showed some pics to my FAM (had to flex a bit) and they all think you're dope.

Who would think a Bagel could love thee so? 

You and me in this tight Ship of love, (text 236, 8:15 pm)

Feeling crunked and high from Lovey Dovey Feel distracted like a housefly, in my mind's eye, Cupid has shot me in the thigh.

BFF Love Poet, (text 237, 8:57 pm)

Last text was sweeter than sweet. Parents take my phone at 9, Cringe! Text u tomorrow!

Ode to a Battery, a respectful nod to Keats' Bright Star

Bright cell, if I be only as charged as you!

U can shine in the middle of the night

AA, AAA, C and D, eternal battery, do not part, baby.

You are an electric non-perfumed bouquet

Bringing to life toys 'n Ex-citation

Some thinks a battery is like a Hermite, 

Shuttered in a dark, springy compartment

Yet u are nature's sleepless moonlit eye

On display

AAA,

How steadfast thou art!

You swell the hearts of young lovers

Sending surgical emojis 

With priestlike diligence

Never questioning the sweet unrest such

Messages may provoke

Always delivering until your Alkaline is

Sapped; your lithium an artefact 

If the Etna is a source of Energy Eternal

Blowing casual smoke rings in the style of 

Lauren Bacall 

You dissuade me not, Dear battery, 

With apparent blandness

You too are a force of nature that makes

Forests vibrate pure energy 

A double charge full of jeopardy 

You too

Resist the voltage that All wish to consume

Effortlessly, unselfishly

Zapping nervous dendrite endings

Sending those shocks during 

Cardiac arrest

Giving a second chance to All, 

Racists, Bigots, Humanitarians alike 

Yet today you are scoffed on Reddit and X

Given wicked looks 

Accused of overheating and creating fires

Charged for bringing down planes and burning babies

Dear battery

You mustn't stoop to such humiliation that

Alt Righters are calling for A "AA battery sitter" 

To oversee those idle rechargeable days 

While blowing smoke rings in the forest

Let your twilight years glow

Knowing an endless flow of eBikers and EVs

Await at your doorstep

Like a pack of hungry wolves

Awaiting one more charge.

Ancient ‘Dune’-like Sandworm Existed Far Longer Than Thought

Researchers examined fossils of the predatory worm and found a new species that persisted for 25 million years after it was believed to have become extinct.

Researchers found fossils of a new species of predatory worm that lived 480 million years ago, part of a group that was thought to have died out at the end of the Cambrian Explosion 25 million years earlier.Credit...Javier Ortega Hernández

By Jack Tamisiea

March 26, 2024

With a head covered in rows of curved spines, ancient Selkirkia worms could easily be confused with the razor-toothed sandworms that inhabit the deserts of Arrakis in “Dune: Part Two.”

During the Cambrian Explosion more than 500 million years ago, these weird worms — which lived inside long, cone-shaped tubes — were some of the most common predators on the seafloor.

“If you were a small invertebrate coming across them, it would have been your worst nightmare,” said Karma Nanglu, a paleontologist at Harvard. “It’s like being engulfed by a conveyor belt of fangs and teeth.”

Thankfully for would-be spice harvesters, these ravenous worms disappeared hundreds of million years ago. But a trove of recently analyzed fossils from Morocco reveals that these formidable predators measuring only an inch or two in length, persisted much longer than previously thought.