Is it Christmas?
Or is this white stuff in my hair?
I hope it’s just fuzz
Toying with my self-esteem.

Confidence looks forward to the next snowfall,
My shoulders hoping
This kid will build me a warm fort
And not a battered cave.

Oh Optimus Prime,
Were you still in your prime when
you thought of that name?
Were you still in your prime
when you ruined hundreds and thousands of kids’ lives
by discontinuing your adventures?
Oh Optimus Prime, were you still in your prime when you fled from my life and never returned?
And to this day I wonder Optimus Prime,
are you still in your prime?
       Here I sit and wait
       Counting the clock, peering at time,
       Hoping someday my answers are met by fate
       So a state of satisfaction may be mine.

So sorry dearest Gawain, I am Optimus Prime.
I tried desperately under the stresses of daily life as Optimus Prime
to seek out the answers and address these questions,
but they are so plentiful.
As you know, I had to fight many troubles
and fend off many enemies,
all the time trying to stay in my prime.
Though you are the first to ask these questions,
I know you will not be the last,
For many often seek out the heart of the one they wish to save.
       Untidy though I have written
       Your conscience I pray,
       Will keep you from being smitten,
       As it is answers that I too crave.

I have long awaited your response Optimus Prime,
and I thank you.
When I watched you on TV, I would speak to the screen,
but there was never a response.
With all my imagination I believed you were alive,
but only now have you proven that you are.
Though many questions remain unanswered,
one question we may lay to rest,
and that is Optimus Prime,
whether you are still in your prime.
And at times when you may think you are not,
it is of your soul that you ought wonder.
       If you a man but four and I a man but three,
       the answer lies with the God of thunder,
       Ascending your soul, like climbing a wet tree,
       Is a slippery riddle I dare not blunder.

I thank you Gawain. I struggle and mercifully I am in debt to you.
If it wasn’t for you, there would be no soul of Optimus Prime.
You have created a soul for me like I have created myself in the hearts of kids throughout the country.
And though I was born from pencil,
I will go on and live in the hearts of these children,
not because of pencil,
but because of people like you
who choose to look beyond my prime.
I call now on my heavenly muse
to guide me in this new adventure,
And offer up his strength to me as I lay aside my prime.
       Sir Gawain and the God of Thunder
       Through random discovery we may find,
       If none of us go asunder,
      ‘Tis likely we may place this soul of mine

See infinity
stop looking; freeze tag, slumber
parties, best friends and

looking for the stars.
Finding “now” in headstands and
long-distance running

(and) different ways of
saying things: five, seven, five,
beating, drum, beating.

Don’t worry, you can
(still) be a wordsmith and (still) choose
Your own adventure.

Photophobia,
__, _   ___
__  ____


ideas (stealing
real estate) and no space left
for this thought (to develop)

(stay sharp)
Don’t dull the senses;
the light won’t help you see
if your eyes are closed.

Let’s get the ball rolling:
Fractions and decimals form a hill;
A rock as big as a house appears at the top
And starts turning at subtraction.

Quicker now, here comes

Derivatives

And

Long division.

What have I done to provoke this improbable pursuer?
Miscounted decimal places,
Carried the wrong number,
Or did I just forget to underline my answer?
Questions dance in the background of operations,
The star of this ill-provoked tantrum.

Though it never catches me before I wake,
The rock stays with me until the next act:
Pieces of it stuck to my shirt
Like the Devil’s Velcro golf *****.