as if* the neurons in my brain
joined rank and gave me
a synaptic '*******'

as if the god's turned their backs
while Zeus shot lightening
bolts through my computer screen

as if the Earth gravitated to her
new lover Mars while
the saddened Moon
watched from a starlit view

as if the page was the curved
ivory tusk of an untamed mastodon
charging from the left indent

as if the blinking cursor was a dagger
ramming itself into Caesar's back

as if the word processor itself
was a ticking time bomb
with enough explosive force
to rip through the loose-knit fabric
of literary space-time

and as if the words themselves were locked
away in some distant prison,
sitting in death row,
*waiting to be executed