Friday, June 23, 2017


Just as things
are looking their blackest,

speaking, a huge-booted
called Javier,

originally from
Seattle or somewhere—
breezes in

to assail the grim scene
with alacrity, charm
and the trademark civility 

you'd expect 
of his beneficent 
alien technocrat guild.

At once, he rolls 
his uniformed sleeves,
thrusts his hips

and cocks his
already quite tilted
and overloaded

utility belt
just a little
bit more

(this alone doesn't
fix anything, of course,
but it helps

you feel
as if you're
being taken care of).

Truthfully, he rarely uses
a single
cabalistic implement

from inside the thing
(his mere presence
ordinarily quells the emergency).

Truth is, that belt
isn't even
very pretty,

but damn it,
it's part
of the outfit—so he wears it.