Do you ever feel like your soul is locked up in a small box
Do you ever feel like that box is placed inside of a deep cave
Do you ever feel like that cave is sealed up with dirt and stone
Do you ever feel like that cave is filling up with frigid water
Do you ever feel like it’s getting hard to breathe
Do you ever feel like it’s time to stop breathing….

I can’t feel my legs
Stay with us, Buddy
The chopper’s inbound
I need some O-Positive

Stay with us, Buddy
Apply direct pressure
I need some O-Positive
Put that one over here

Apply direct pressure
I’ve lost the pulse
Put that one over here
Where’s the Chaplain?

I’ve lost the pulse
The chopper’s inbound
Where’s the Chaplain
I can’t feel my legs

Sunrise
A light mist diffuses its rays
Rabbits lap at the morning dew
Eagles circle overhead

Morning
Kids walking to school
Rabbits flee to the bushes
Eagles circle overhead

Women in designer sneakers
Walk designer dogs
Dogs stare intently at the bushes
Eagles circle overhead

Students in PE uniforms
Run here and there
Yelling, chasing *****
Eagles circle overhead

Riding mower screams near bushes
Spraying grass and debris
Terrified rabbits flee the mower’s roar
Eagles plunge downward

Aerie rests upon outfield lightstand
Eaglets screech, mouths agape
Mother rips warm meat from a tiny carcass
Her children will live another day

Noon
Students sit here and there
Eating, laughing, smoking
They leave trash in their wake
The rats are lucky the eagles have eaten
The sky is bright blue overhead

Students in PE uniforms
Run here and there
Yelling, chasing *****
The sky is bright blue overhead

Kids walking home
Individually and in small groups
They ignore the trash
They do not see the rats
Puffy clouds float by overhead

An old Mexican man with a sad demeanor
Walks the field
He picks up the trash with gloved hands
The sun beats down upon his head

Boys in cleats occupy the field
Mouths full of seeds
Moving in choreographed actions
The sky is filled with grayish white spheres
For awhile

Dusk
The field’s lights blink on
Accompanied by a faint fluorescent hum
The eagles are not disturbed
The bright bulbs warm their nest
The sky is cobalt and pink

Groups of uniformed boys run on and off of the field
Spectators’ cheers  punctuate their actions
The eagles sleep peacefully
The sky is obscured by bright lights

Night
A trim Caucasian man moves a heavy switch downward
One by one the lights go dim, silent, off
The last lights are his truck’s headlights beaming across the infield
A crescent moon is visible overhead

Deer and coyotes play deadly hide and seek during the night
The deer seeking sweet flowers and grass
The coyotes seeking the deer
The moon and stars glow brightly overhead

Sunrise
The sun peeks above the horizon
Warm hues of yellow and orange
Songbirds wake to announce the day
Eagles circle overhead

I hope
That in the end
I've made your life better

If life’s minutes
were kept in a vault
I would transfer each of mine
to you.
So that you had time
for a cure to be found

Blood
Sticky
Warm
Leaking

Amaline
smells of
***** and rot.
Ill-fitting clothes stained
from weeks,
or months,
or years
of neglect.

In weeks
or months
or years,
Gangrene claimed four of her pickle green toes.
Eight ragged teeth hang lazily from
Abscessed gums
Leaking sticky pus;
Her putrid breath heavy with bacteria and decay.

Last week or month
an old rooster
pecked
her eye.
As she slept.
A choice morsel for
the rat waiting in the dark.

It rained that day
Or the next.

No one noticed that morning or night
a week or a month or a year ago,
when she dragged the broken bottle
across her wrists.

Her family stopped caring long ago
And so did she.

Anathema: Cursed by Ecclesiastical Authority

She blamed me for her excommunication
She blamed me for her banishment
She blamed me for her ostracization
She blamed me for her condemnation
She blamed me for her fear
She blamed me for her shame
She blamed me for her loneliness disgrace humiliation suffering
She blamed me for her pain
She blamed me for her agony
She blamed me for her dishonor
She blamed me for her punishment
She blamed me for her tribulation
She blamed me for her immolation

My name is Anathema.
She is my mother

Annie’s jagged features create an ominous shadow
Known locally as the kielbasa murderer,
She dispatched her victims with wretched exuberance.

She hunted them while they languished in public spaces
Masquerading as an angel of mercy, she offered food and drink,
Warm blankets, and kind, uplifting words.
False hope for those whose sustenance she had poisoned.

When her evil was complete
The dead were gently covered
A small shrine constructed
And a perfumed goodbye note placed nearby.

"Dear Beloved,
I could no longer bear your suffering
This last measure of comfort is given with all of my love
To assist your transition to a higher place.
With Radiant Peace,
Annie"

Annie helped more than 200 souls transition to a higher place
Then she disappeared.
Dead?
Imprisoned?
Or just moved on…

No one knows for sure.

A Note From Exile

I cannot go home.
Rather I cannot go where my family lives - that place ceased to be home some time ago.

I was a soldier during the Cold War and my neighbors there have become more like East German loyalists than American citizens.

They surrender their rights without question
They are eager to call out community members on social media for ‘social distancing violations’.
They use shame and ridicule to control others
They applaud the police for keeping children from playing in gigantic public parks
They trust politicians who ignore public defecation and drug use to look out for ’the public good'
They allow themselves to be labeled ‘essential’ and ’non-essential’
They carry ’traveling papers’ in the event that they are stopped by the police
They propagate the most inflammatory statistics without ever validating their veracity.
Because…
They heard it on CNN.

So I will remain 1098 miles away
Zooming
Skyping
Facetiming
Until the contagion subsides

And then I’ll return
To a completely different world.

I cannot go home.
Rather I cannot go where my family lives - that place ceased to be home some time ago.
I was a soldier during the Cold War and my neighbors there have become more like East German loyalists than American citizens.
They surrender their rights without question
They are eager to call out community members on social media for ‘social distancing violations’.
They use shame and ridicule to control others
They applaud the police for keeping children from playing in gigantic public parks
They trust politicians who ignore public defecation and drug use to look out for ’the public good'
They allow themselves to be labeled ‘essential’ and ’non-essential’
They carry ’traveling papers’ in the event that they are stopped by the police
They propagate the most inflammatory statistics without ever validating their veracity.
Because…
They heard it on CNN.

So I will remain 1098 miles away
Zooming
Skyping
Facetiming
Until the contagion subsides

And then I’ll return
To a completely different world.

Après Paris
Darkness seems so close
Threatening and present.

Even as we mourn,
Our hearts tremble
Wondering

Are we next?

We bury
We grieve
We pray

Dieu Nos Protège
God Protect Us

Once I wrote
L’espoir, toujours l’espoir
Always have hope.

Now, I’m much less sure

There
Apart from the others
Broken, Flawed

Beautifully imperfect

A rare find

For one perceptive enough to appreciate it

The perfect gift

Arrange communication, over.
Roger, Out.
Inform the Chain of Command
Contact the Chaplain
Execute a satellite uplink
Notify the next of kin
Start the phone tree
Make the arrangements
Honor the deceased
Comfort the family
Pray for the soul

I failed you and you and you and you and you
I let you and you and you and you down
I disappointed you and you and you and you
I was hurtful to you and you and you
I lied to you and you and you and you and you and you
I cannot fix these things.
I can only apologize

Turning
Burning
Learning
Yearning
Blackhawk turning, HIT, cockpit burning
Troops learning of war, yearning for home

His grapefruit-shaped head was just visible above the elephant grass; an ideal target for enemy snipers.
Rainy season bathed the area with an intoxicating petrichor,
inviting him to forget the danger... for a moment.
The new medication caused his genuphobia to subside, but thoughts of knees, terrible horrible knees, still stalked his mind.
Would he live to see his birthday tomorrow?
The fates were ambiguous

Away on deployment
The dirt for a bed
A young 11 Bravo
Lays down his bald head
The birds in the sky
patrol where he lay
The young Airborne Ranger
survived one more day.
The bad guys are crawling,
they’re reaching the wire
But our Airborne Ranger,
he meets them with fire.
He detonates claymores,
He fires his M-4
The bad guys retreat,
They want it no more.
The Rangers pursue
and mow them down
They kick down doors
throughout the small town
Not one of the terrorists
greets the next day
The Airborne Rangers made them pay.

They say he could smell death coming
as it skulked the woods
They say he’d follow the scent through the mountains
to where a grieving family stood.

They say he’d keep his distance
until invited in
And with their grim permission
He’d eat the dead one’s sins

They’d give a crusty loaf
and a bowl of homebrewed ale
And Barlow commenced to pawn his soul
To save this one’s from Hell

Three times Barlow passed the loaf
o’er the dead one’s ashen face
And with each somber passing
He vowed to take their place

He uttered words of binding
He whispered vile oaths
He invoked angels and demons
He made offerings to both

He passed the bread and ale
‘round the body seven times
He consumed the tainted host
And muttered, “This one’s sins are now mine.”


“He shall not walk again.
He will sleep within his grave.
His soul is not tormented.
His spirit has been saved.”

Barlow then departed
Moving slowly into the gloom
Like a fading apparition
Returning to its tomb

Mountain custom says
that sin eaters must be paid
Or they will return the sins
To the souls that they have saved

So families leave a token
made of silver, copper, or gold
At a crossroads in the mountains
Near the place where sins are sold

You don’t need my help
You don’t want my help
But I’ll lie down over here
To keep the predators at bay
While you heal
or die

Slate skies
Stinging rain
No rainbows today.

Wicked laughter
from darkened houses
terrifies.

Defenestrated neighbors
Swing from ragged ropes
Tattered clothing
Exposes inhuman things

Soulless creatures
Skulk and lurk
patiently waiting
for beating hearts

Broken gravestones
hide terrified children
clutching iPads.
Fading light in a dark, dark
world

Christmas holidays
Joy, Laughter, Cheer
"Merry, Merry, Marigold," sang Mum
"Merry, Merry Mum," sang Marigold

Cheeks and nose tips
glowing bright pink
against frigid air.
Bodies at sharp upward angle
ski lift carrying them
Up Up Up

Tips slightly skyward
they slide smoothly from the lift
Marigold then Mum

Side by side
Each spies their downward course
With mighty heaves they push off

"Happy Christmas, Mum!"
"Happy Christmas Marigold"

Marigold's helmet
A disco ball
Glitter, sparkles, color
reflecting brilliant sunshine
A comet streaking downward
Screaming toward terminal velocity

Mum carves a serpentine path
A python's body in the new snow
Fresh
Natural
Tranquil

Somewhere near the top
Children hear a hideous snicker-snack
A pine bough vorpal sword
Finds its mark in someone's back

Somewhere on the mountain
Sun melted snow
And the carefree happy skier
had nowhere else to go

Her skiing day ended
Amid the trees and dirt
Her glistening glitter helmet
Crumpled
Filled with earth

Paralysis would be the happy ending,
but this is not that day
The little girl named Marigold
will never get back up to play

That's the tragic outcome
when trees meet vertebrae

Her friends gather together
Engineering an awesome little shrine
filled wth flowers, cats, and baseballs
and even a basketball-sized porcupine

Beneath a mighty pine tree
Friends embrace and say goodbye
Christmas holiday is a rotten time
For little kids to die.

Early on Sunday mornings
Uncle Matthew clattered about downstairs;
hours before the sun was scheduled to rise.

After a while,
the warm smells of morning
wafted their way around the spacious farmhouse;
Fresh coffee
Bacon cut thick
so that it didn’t shrivel up to nothing in the pan,
and most special of all,
his honey bread.

We were convinced that God himself gave Uncle Matthew that recipe
as it was the closest thing to Manna that any one of us had ever tasted.

The woman known as Mom hummed contentedly.
The kitchen smelled delicious.
Eggs, toast, juice and what was that, pork chops?
For Breakfast?
An unexpected, delightful treat.

Unaccustomed to cheer, the children entered cautiously.
Looking toward the wall
They saw the hook.
But the belt
The wide leather belt
Was missing

Was that good or bad?

The children took their seats.
The woman known as Mom
Slid their plates into place and urged them to "Eat Up"
Lest their delicious meal get cold.

One careful bite.
A swallow.
Pause....Pause....Pause
No slaps. No hits. No belt.
The children gobbled furiously
Racing to finish
Before she changed her mind.

When you are free, you will fail
When you are free, you will offend
When you are free, you will be offended
When you are free, you will get lost
When you are free, you will fail
When you are free, you will make stupid mistakes
When you are free, you will hurt yourself
When you are free, you will be challenged by others
When you are free, you trade subservience and victimhood for independence and responsibility.

Are you tough enough to be free?

Images flash as I stand
alone
in Oma's house

The things are here
the remainders of a life well lived

But the animating force
The life itself
is no more

There will be no more gatherings
No more raucous debates about
football or politics
No more screaming kids or blaring music.

The life has left this place

But not the love.

I can still smell her
My heart tells me this will fade
So I drink in all that I can to keep her with me
forever.

Your arms aren’t quite right, your head’s too big
Your legs are turned in awkward ways,
You struggle to take each breath.
We couldn’t love you more,
But I need to know...
Will you forgive
our giving
you this
Life?

Daily Report

Morning:
Disheveled
Matted hair from a turbulent night
The angry woman leans over to bite her own arm

Day:
Drool falls in a long sticky stream
Staining the ill-fitting gown
Vacant eyes gaze forward in an unblinking stare
Sometimes her hands shake involuntarily
The restraints rub weeping wounds on her wrists and ankles
Frequently she screams incoherently at everything and nothing
She smells of ***** and infection

Evening:
She delights in having her hair done by the young women on staff
Brightening as they pin, curl, flip, and comb
Next the make-up
Hand-picked shades
From an expensive city boutique
Meticulously applied

Night:
Her face softens as she sleeps.
The moonlight casts a gentle glow,
masking the many wrinkles
Her eyes move beneath the lids
Following a story known only to her

At long last
Relief.
It embraced her.
Welcomed her.
A warm wave.
Taking her cares and worries away,
one drip
at a time.

She watched the drips mingle with the bath water.
Dissipate. Disappear.
Slowly replaced by the peaceful emptiness of the Void.

Halfway. She knew that she was halfway.
The edges of her vision blurred.
Her breathing slowed.
She was slipping from here to there.
From chaos to peace.

Then...
Crashing, screaming, tugging
Peace replaced by frenzy
Solitude by cacophony.

The tranquility that was so close
pushed away by liters of O positive.
How she hated this and THEM.

"We've got her back," She heard someone say.

"I don't want to BE back," she screamed inside her head.

I taste the hot dry air as the wind blows through the ravine.

I taste the smoky, spicy richness of meat cooked over an open flame.

I taste the sticky sweetness of a large Coke with ice.

Though my eyes cannot see the game,

my taste buds tell me that I'm at Dodger Stadium,
                    
and I smile.

Thirty Four Years Ago

Today…

I scrambled from the back of a 5-ton Army truck and landed in a different universe

Before me stood men
Whose disdain for my existence was visceral

Though I had excelled in all of the tests required to arrive at this place – none of it mattered.

I hadn’t proven my worth to THEM.

And… until I did

I was nothing

Welcome to Day Zero

Colorful, tasty
Sticky swirls, canes, and powders
Make the tongue delight.

Ambulance, paramedics
Diabetic coma; sigh

A moment takes up no time
A moment takes up no space
Infinite moments disappear instantly
because anything times zero is zero;
Yet
In a moment lives begin
and end
In a moment love blossoms
and dies
and
In a moment
eternities collide

Despair
It roils beneath the surface
Agitating
Provoking
Demanding
Hating
Me

It tells me that I ****
It tells me that I am worthless
It tells me that I should die
That I NEED to die

It feeds upon the dark things that I think about myself
When it hungers too deeply,
It explodes outward
exposing it’s hideous face
But mostly I can contain it under a façade of intellectualism and superficial positivity

But it is always there
Waiting to be fed

Beep
Beep
Beep
Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

I wonder
Will this disappoints them too?

In the small house down the block...

Hundreds of tangerine air fresheners
hang from the ceiling.

Cars come and go
At all hours
Furtive movement
Car to house
House to car

In the dim light
bills are traded for small baggies
Bits of chemical provide relief.
Temporarily

Nearby...
Children play
Happy
Ignorant of the filth that surrounds them

In the small house down the block...

Plastic buckets
Chemicals and bleach
Hollow-eyed adults use long sticks
to stir the brew
Fiberglass respirators and rubber gloves protect them
There is no God here.

Nearby...
Children play
Happy, smiling
Curious

In the small house down the block...

Skeletal adults are strewn
randomly on floors    couches   and     chairs
Sleeping the non-sleep of the drugged undead.
Cigarettes and blunts burn in ashtrays.
Roaches and rats feast
on ignored food

Nearby...
A child challenges a rat for pizza
She brushes off the bugs
Hunger overtaking revulsion
She bites down
Weekends are bad
Monday she'll eat again
at school
Where she's fed
her only reliable meals.
-- she hates Spring Break --

In the small house down the block...

A toddler bobbles around
He looks into this
He looks into that
Curious about the world around him

A bucket with bubbles
That's fun.
The bubbles are deep
He leans over
He reaches
down, down, down
SPLASH!!!

It must have been the sirens
that caused them to stir.
It wasn't his agonized screams
It wasn't the girl's wailing and tears
Huh? Wha?
They rise
Unfocused, unaware, unconcerned

3:19 PM

In the small house down the block...
A 17 month old boy dies of chemical burns
To the eyes, nose, trachea, and lungs

Nearby...
The skeletal adults are angry
that they will receive $357.84 less
in welfare payments next month.

In a caravan
Driving a beaten up Humvee
Down the road we go
pulling security (Pow, Pow, Pow)
See the villagers
hiding behind donkeys
Now it’s time to hit the gas cause
they’re shooting right at me

Oh, 7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today (Hey!)
7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way,
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today.

Driving down the road
On a routine resupply
Did the bomb squad
clear this route
cause I don’t want to die (Hi, Hi, Hi)
Checking with HQ
to make sure it is clear
The 2nd Lieutenant in the TOC
says, “There’s nothing to fear.”

Oh, 7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way
Oh it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today (Hey!)
7-6-2, 7-6-2,
bullets flying my way,
Oh, it ***** to have to drive
through Afghanistan today.

Yesterday we bumped along dusty farm roads together
Yesterday the packing shed was a beehive of activity
Yesterday I was the ring bearer in his wedding
Yesterday all of the cousins splashed in his apartment swimming pool,
fearing the wrath of the mean man
in number 9.
Yesterday I saw him at the pier
Yesterday we went fishing
Yesterday he barbecued tri-tip and we reminisced over old photos
Yesterday he cheered for the Giants and the 49ers
Yesterday he laughed until tears rolled from the corners of his eyes
Yesterday there was a tomorrow to look forward to…

My heart is empty and cold
Its warmth drained one note at a time
By the music that has haunted me
Since…. that day.

Its major chords
Its tender melodies
Its painful, infectious happiness
Exsanguinate me

People say time heals

It doesn’t completely

Because scars,
Still tender to the music’s touch,
Never stop bleeding

How do you know that your life has been good enough?

That you've done enough
That you've been enough
That you've accomplished enough
That you've given enough
That you've strived enough
That you've endured enough
That you've toughed it out enough times
That you've ****** up enough hardship
That you've checked enough boxes and jumped through enough hoops

How do you know
that when all of the plusses are added
and all of the minuses are taken away
that your life doesn't equal
a big f-ing zero?

During the Depression little Evie
sewed dolls from Granny's quilt scraps.

World War II knew her as Evelyn.
Builder of planes, defender of freedom.

Cousin Bobby called her Auntie,
He moved in with us when he was 12.

44 years of first graders adored Mrs. Bennett,
who read them stories with love and expression.

She was Dad's one and only Sugar.

Now,
one breath later,
she is

the deceased
the body
the cadaver
the remains

Nothing more.

Qualify failure
As a peach tree that blossoms
now to forever

When minor acts of defiance
are guilty pleasures,
You are not free

No tender words
In gilded script
Will appear on Mother’s Day

No bright bouquets
Family photos or
Teddy bears
Will clutter where you lay

In your life you had no time
For sentiments such as these
You’d rather we spend the money
On cornbread and chili beans.

Buy some toilet brushes and bathroom grout,
I can hear you say,
Or better yet,
Buy the kids some clothes
And put them on lay-a-way.

Don’t shop at those expensive stores
When Walmart works just fine
Why pay $1.62
When you can get it for $.99?

You’d tell us not to bother
Getting cards or presents
But on Mother’s Day you’d be irate
Because we actually listened.

So on Mother’s Day in ‘17
Your gift will be the same
A reused box from Amazon
Where we just X’d out the name
Inside the box are useful things
That do not cost a lot

From discount stores and sales racks
To keep the prices down
We’ll donate them to a shelter
That helps the homeless right downtown
Perhaps that will make you happy,
But my heart is filled with doubt
I’m sure there’s something in that box
For you to yell at me about.

Look
My arms
Have no hands
They are but clubs
My gift from the Interahamwe soldiers
Machetes chopping old, young, everyone
Children, wife dead
One ******
April
Night

Friendship

Friendship is not a jewel or a coin or a gift
Jewels and coins and gifts don’t die
Friendship is not a flower or blown glass;
Friendship is not fragile
Friendship is not a poem or a melody
Because friendship cannot be forgotten

Friendship is a symphony
With grand overtures
Melodic harmonies
and unforgettable phrases
punctuated
by
Attacking staccatos
                 Vibrant arpeggios
then peaceful interludes

And sometimes
rests

Followed by thoughtful segues

All held together by a coherent structure
called
Respect

The phone rings and it's 2:00 AM
I hear your voice on the other end
You're cryin' and it sounds like he'***** you again
Sure, I'll come get you and I'll take you in -
while you try to work things out with him...

Because I'm not rich enough
I'm not tall enough
I'm not hot enough
But I'm the nicest guy you've ever known...
It's why I'm in the friend zone

A few weeks later I hear your ringtone
You're whispering, so I know you're not alone
He came home drunk and angry tonight
Now he's breaking up the house and he's looking for a fight
You ask if I could meet you at the end of the road
and if I'd mind bringing a change of clothes...
Of course not, I'll be there in 10,
just to get you away from him

But you know...
I'm not hip hop enough
I'm not redneck enough
I'm not bad boy enough
I'm not Tik Tok enough
But I'm the nicest guy you've ever known...
It's why I'm in the friend zone

I'm out with the boys on a Saturday night
County sheriff tears by screaming sirens and lights
The music's playing loud and I'm halfway gone
So I pay him no attention and never looked at my phone
5 missed calls and 3 texts unread
"Help me please," was what the last one said

But you said I'm
Not this enough
and I'm not that enough
And I live on the wrong side of town...
But I promise, I promise
I'll be there...
When they lay you down.

You're drunk dialing me again
And I listen to your story and then
I throw something on, walk over and knock on your door
I make us coffee and hang out till 4:00
Till you doze off asleep on the floor
I cover you up and head back home
And crawl back into bed all alone...

Cause I'm
Not thin enough
I don't show skin enough
I'm not cute enough to turn your friends' heads,
But...
I'm the sweetest girl you've ever known
That's why I'm in the friend zone

You ask me
Can I borrow 50 till I get paid next week?
Is your Netflix password still Happy Feet?
Does your car have any gas?
Don't that blonde have a fine....

And you know I'm
Not ***** enough
I don't sleep round enough
I'm not tatted up
I don't have thigh gap enough
To impress all the boys...
But I'm the sweetest girl you've ever known
That's why I'm in the friend zone

You said your girl left you for good
Packed up her sh*t, blocked your number, and moved
You cried in my arms, didn't know what to do...
I held you tight, kissed your hair and whispered, "I love you."

But I'm
Not cute enough
I don't have ***** 'nough
Or Botox enough
To catch a boy like you;
But I'm the sweetest girl you've ever known
That's why I'm in the friend zone

I pressed the call button one last time
You voice said, "Leave a message or text me at 9:00"
My words were simple and clear,
Because I wanted you to hear...

I am the best friend that you've ever known
What are you gonna do now that I'm gone?
You have to solve your problems all alone

I am leaving the friend zone...

Frosty the snowman was a jolly happy soul
until the climate changed and then he raged
and became a real a-hole.
Frosty the snowman is a fairy tale they say
Because there is no snow, anywhere we go
Al Gore said it would be this way.
There must have been some carbon in those cars and trucks we saw,
Because we drove them all around, the snow began to thaw....
Ooooooo
Frosty the snowman was alive as he could be,
Wheezing here and there, melting everywhere,
Because of CFCs.
Thumpety, thump, thump
Thumpety, thump, thump
Look at Frosty moan
Thumpety, thump, thump
Thumpety, thump, thump
Because of the thin ozone!