It was time to take another visit through my head today
A visit so very long overdue
Its been a little cloudy and flat of late
Need to check what maintenance there is to do
The door was creaky and stiff to open
It was so dark and smelt musty inside
Flicked the light switch…. but the globe had blown
My phone light now my guide
Oh, what a sight beheld me
A chaotic dishevelled mess
Seems nothing is running efficiently
There are certainly issues here to address
The energy level was running on empty
Motivation level was on low
Memory section was battered with holes
Visual and hearing department were irregular and slow
However, the heart /love section level was perfect
Full and abundant with a perfect flow
Healthy and happy looking
Shining brightly with a beautiful glow
Feeling completely overwhelmed…. l knew
My head desperately needed a service and tune
I headed toward and walked out that creaky door
Thinking … l will do it soon!
Pottery scattered and came to life.
I opened up that art supply closet.
Flicked locusts off of me.
The winner in me started out severed.
Fast talking, mixed up, mangled.
Something in me took off like an old billboard torn away.
I thrived.
I throve.
I thrived like miles of sick globs.
I thrived like spikes on a cloud.
I thrived like bites unspoken.
I thrived like being stapled to the wall with a gold star.
I talked as fast as they could scarf a whole seal off the beach.
A little clay figurine.
That little, monster figurine from the supply room?
Doesn’t remind me of anything special.
And yet, the chattering continues.
Flicked those locustsssss.
I thrived.
I throve.
I was mangled and covered in drool.
The Door
Kevin Davis 2026
The door was closed when I stepped in the room,
what waited behind it — joy or quiet doom?
I longed to open it, see for myself,
With no one to ask and no counsel to help.
No whisper of sound from the other side,
no glimmer of light from the threshold to hide.
But still I was curious, wanting to know,
Certain something was amiss in the shadowed glow.
I studied the knob — the keyway was bare,
no bolt in the lock, no latch to declare.
So, I gripped it gently and turned to the right;
It moved without effort and opened to sight.
The room was as dark as a moonless night,
and nothing within it gave shape to my fright.
I steadied my breathing before stepping through,
when a voice behind asked, “What are you trying to do?”
I leapt in the air and spun toward the sound,
A towering figure, a ghoul, standing ground.
“I meant no intrusion, no harm, no offense
Just curious wandering, nothing intense.”
The ghoul gave a laugh, warm, rumbling, free,
“No harm was done — come look with me.”
He flicked on the lights and welcomed me in,
A room wide and pleasant, inviting within.
I’ve reached the unknown I can tell you
It looked like a cloud at dusk
The sunset was orange and blue
I thought for a question to ask
But soon realized I’ve no questions
Just gazed at the heaven’s turmoil
You didn’t come up with suggestion
To shuffle off this mortal coil
So it went astray, this unknown
It flicked on the wall touched my ceiling
Some shadows grew little bit long
Tad longer than yesterday’s evening.
Well hard as they might fight and try
So tight are rarely barely getting by
Sigh jobs squarely unfairly go to AI
Picked nicked then flicked on the sly
No sorrow poor borrow more to buy
Tricked by CGI lie from a cloudy sky
Social media spy pigs in the Tech sty
Future can’t deny no one gets a bye
Suitor will be AI then humans will defy
Pyrrhic critics decry but it is do or die
Titans fight for their piece of the pie
White collar all about the dollar guy
Dash for stash of cash ultimate high
Purloining while just coining on the fly
Spend as know the end is almost nigh
Flash rash brash greed splash they ply
Keys for wheeze must seize or will pry
Happens so fast they have cast the dye
Command it’s about demand & supply
Sycophant pant a creamy dreamy chai
Ego blast will last with your past will vie
Perverse creed gets worse this the storm's eye
Sow the seed impede our swede teed up & fry
Won't conform will curse why must I lie with AI
Plead don’t need IT to perform bellow thy lullaby
No go slow mellow Hello but a wry dry Goodbye
I walk my hill today
it is wet and slippery
full of walnut and oak leaves
I have to watch my step
because there are also walnuts
shaking in a maple tree takes my attention
water is flicked onto me in a big way
I expect to see a puma leap from the tree
the branch springs up as if something was in there
I have no idea what and keep walking
I was fourteen.
August smog pressed through the mesh of my bedroom window.
Through the grimy grid, I watched them in the backyard.
“Sign the papers.”
He was smoking a Belmont.
The smoke left his mouth
and hung between them.
He flicked the cigarette toward the house.
I watched the ember burn and die.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I flicked it off~
the final bulb in the house~
and stood in the dark,
counting the hums
of appliances
I forgot to unplug.
The fridge sighed,
the modem blinked,
and the walls,
thin as a whisper,
held their breath
like a thief
in an empty room.
Outside,
the streetlamp
swayed its yellow noose.
Inside,
I became
the shadow
I'd been chasing
all along.
Bulging eyes like a pompous toad
watched for me to blush and explode
when we met and you called me cold.
I thumped your cigar.
You flicked ash into my dress fold
then showed the nerve of one too bold
by kissing me in your wrapped hold
and yet here we are.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The gray squirrel spotted a broom
leaning up by the porch~
Had quite the marvelous notion.
Not one to consider the why or the how,
he scrambled right up it, tail twitching,
chattering to himself,
"I’ll master this stick with the straws!”
He perched on the handle,
wiggled his rump,
adjusted his paws,
then flicked his tail twice—there!
A leap? No, a shuffle. A wobble?
No, a lurch!
He clung with three paws
to his unstable perch.
The broom, being broom-like,
just leaned to the right,
then sloooowly,
politely,
keeled
over.
Just gravity’s pull and
a soft, leafy thud.
The squirrel blinked once,
sniffed the rude bristles,
then shrugged
(in a squirrelish way).
He rode the broomstick,
well... sort of. Near it.
He’d touched it while falling!
That counted! (In spirit.)
He flicked his tail
with a dignified air,
stole three porch-side daisies,
and vanished.
Somewhere.
To this day,
the broom lays abandoned.
Somewhere nearby
an adventure-seeking rodent
plots riding the rake
leaning next to the
old oak tree.
It's to be expected
this time of year, mid Winter,
a merciless wind straight
off the bay blowing
leaves left over from Autumn,
lifting them like dead prey
flicked up by the claws
of a cat reliving the kill
in its remorseless play.
Just now I’ve met somebody beaux,
whom I perceive to truly glow
—(oh! anxiety—oh! fitful fret!)—
Somemany beaux (just now I’ve met!)
has flicked a spark of gaiety
O’! Fitful fret! O’ Anxiety!
for outfits worn—For, mask and mark
of gaiety has flicked a spark
to illumine a free soul born
for mask and mark, for outfits worn,
and who’d begun “woman”.—Hu(man?):
A free soul born to illumine.
Can you believe they all are one
(w(h)o)?man: human—and who’d begun
to truly glow—whom I perceive:
they all are one, can you believe?
Bubbles hit the walls of the dome and pop.
Hurting sounds.
Flinching tree branches.
Feeling bored in here.
As if my car won’t start.
No one believes that my car won’t start.
Or that the dome is getting warped.
I’m like a failed science fiction story.
I wish I could turn into a stone and get flicked away.
I wish I could shrink so that I won’t need to eat much.
Feeling bored still.
Bored and trying to be whimsical.
By playing in the swampy old puddles.
In this place where it never rains but has endless, sloshing puddles.
I think everyone else is happy.
Rusty water hits my face again.
They never saw me—not really.
Only the outline I traced in the halls,
A whisper of denim and shy glances,
A ghost who smiled too politely.
They passed notes like grenades,
Laughed too loudly
When the silence was breaking me.
I wore their words like a second skin—
Tight, blistering,
But invisible to them.
You asked if I was okay once—
But your eyes flicked away
Before the truth had a chance to crawl out.
Still,
That was kind,
Compared to the others
Who carved their stories into my name
Without ever asking for mine.
I screamed,
But only inside,
Where echoes get lost
In the ribcage's corners.
And when I disappeared,
They asked,
“Why didn’t she say something?”
As if silence isn’t something we’re taught
By the ones who pretend
They’re listening.
In this woke world I’d soon be hung
If I had had your spiteful tongue
How ironic that its wagging
Only stopped when you were gagging
And as I tried to grab the shard
Of chicken bone that was stuck hard
I grappled with what I could grip
And when you flinched… I heard a rip
You spasmed like you’d just been stung
And left me with your severed tongue
My sense of humour must be black:
Your tongue is mounted on a plaque
I’ve kept it from my wife and kids
To keep my marriage off the skids
So they don’t know that though you’re dead
A bit of of you is in my shed
So there I sat; my hide of choice
And thought about your nagging voice
And when your tongue began to jiggle
I won’t pretend it made me giggle
It made a move like licking lips
And flicked a few saliva drips
It looked ’round with its probing tip
Then sensed me… and it gave me gyp
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