First stick, in the morning
Telling myself that you can do this thing
Still not yet convinced, second stick
Telling myself that It's not worth it, flick
Third stick, saying I don't give a ****
Breathe, breathe
It's hard to breathe
Fourth stick, telling myself that
I deserve someone better
Fifth stick, I'm so fed up with everything
Sixth stick, do I want her back?
yes? no? I dont know what to act
Seventh stick, why am I like this?
I don't understand, trying to make sense of this
Eight stick, do you still think of me?
Lungs intoxicated, staying alive as long as I can
Let me breathe normally once again

THE QUIRK OF THE  QUARK

(FOR SOMETHING HAVING NO EMPIRICAL SENSORY DERIVED QUALITY IT  
SURE IS ONE HELL OF A PASSION KILLER!

In bed
(between the sheets at last)    

I stroke your breast
with excited fingertips

ask you
“What ya reading Hon? ”

Big mistake!

“’bout Quarks! ”

“Quarks? ”

“You know subatomic particles...duh! ”

“...the irreducible building blocks of
the universe! ”

“Ahhh! ”
Your ****** comes alive
has a mind of its own.

I come
(from a generation)    

where protons, neutrons & electrons

were just
a lot of

coloured *****
hanging from a ceiling

or the stuff
of badly drawn diagrams.

Death by boredom
in a cold Science class
on a wintry morning.

“Unlike previously known particles
a Quark
(rhymes with Cork)    

has only a partial
Pos.  or   Neg.
electrical charge.

“I see! ” I say
(not seeing) .

“They are bound
in families of 3...”

She tells me.

“Really? ”

I interrupt her
but she interrupts my interruption.

“...to form protons & neutrons! ”

She continues on
in a hectoring lecturing tone.

“These triplets
(are you with me?)    ”

“Yes...yes! ”
(I lie)    

“...we call hadrons.”

She absentmindedly
strokes my *******

for(I guess)    
...emphasis.

I become positively
...charged.

“The pairing of a quark
with an anti-quark
of the same colour
is known as a

Neson.”

I can feel my mind
freezing over.

She just skates over it
with a knife-blade intellect.  

Again I grin & feign
an interest.
“So now...”
She continues in full spate.

I drown in her drone.

“The indivisible
constituents of matter

appear to be

the six what we call flavours of
Quarks.”

“Oh, and...six other kind of particles
known as

Leptons.”

I prop imaginary matchsticks
under my real eyelids.

“The electron
(by this time I have lost my *******)    

the Muon
(I feel like a *****)    

& the Lau
(I can’t sink any lower)    

each with its own
Neutrino.”

My eyes glaze
over.

“Now, according to Quantum Field Theory
all forces

between
particles

are mediated
by force carrying particles

called...called

Gauge Bosons! ”

My mind
goes into meltdown.

“One of these
(the Gluon)    
is responsible
for holding Quarks
together.”

“I see...I see! ”
I consider thoughtfully

‘though I
don’t.

“The physicist
who postulated

the existence of a
Quark...”

(******* that
Murray Gell -Mann)    

“...obviously liked a laugh
giving them the nonsense name of
Quark! ”

“And oh...on a whim
described them

as flavours & colours! ”

“Quarks...! ” I ruminate
(in an interior monologue)  
are passion killers
especially the details.

She laughs.
So I – laugh.

“Ha ha! ”
(** hum) .

Brought back to life
by the kiss of humour

I come out of
deep freeze.

Warming now
to her

subject

she informs me

“Each flavour of
Quark

comes in
3 colours! ”

“Horray for the red green & blue! ”

I holler.

She glowers.

I smile stupidly and sheepishly.

“Each hadron
(remember ‘em?)    ”

“Yes, I remember
I had one! ”

I mumble
& mutter

but it’s lost
on her.

My *******’s had it.
It’s more an R.I.P!

She’s blinding me
with Science.

“And what... pray tell...? ”

I dare to ask
a question.

“...are the 6 flavours of Quarks? ”

“Why..! ”

She positively beams
delighted at my interest.

“UP.

DOWN.

STRANGE.

CHARMED.

BOTTOM
(OR BEAUTY) .

TOP
(OR TRUTH) .”

“Really? ”

“Really! ”

“Why...I’ll be a...why
of course I shoulda guessed! ”

I stroke the beauty
of her bottom

(for comfort
rather than any ****** interest) .

“Protons have...”

She drones on and on despite my hand’s pleading.

“2 UP Quarks &
1 DOWN.”

“Oh lucky them! ”
I think
but only in my mind.

“...whose electrical charges combine
to give them a + 1.”

“Neutrons
(on the other hand)    
Are you listening? “

“Yes Mam...I am! ”

“...are made up of
1 UP
Quark
&
2 DOWN! ”

“...which accounts for
its neutral charge.! ”

“Right! ”
“Right? ”

My mind has hit
a brick wall.

I can’t go on.

“Oh, love...
Am I boring you? ”

“Not at all! No! Not at all! ”

I doth protest
too much.

I feel like
four flavours of Quarks
(you know the sort)    

STRANGE, CHARMED(I’m sure!)    
BOTTOM & TOPS

that existing for only
an infinitesimal fraction of a second can only be seen
in those self-annihilating collisions that occur when
protons and anti-protons are accelerated to speeds

approaching the speed of light
in a particle accelerator.

But in a hundredth of a billionth of a billionth of a second
I blinked

...& missed it.
**** that
Murray Gell-Mann

...she’s fallen asleep

Leaving me
with a revived *******

glowing lonely
in the dark.

Quarks
...****!

I design a tee-shirt in my mind.

“Ha ha! ”

“What...! ” suddenly you
awake...laugh

as I imagine
a Quark

would.

“April Fool! ”
You scream.

“I learnt it all off by heart! ”

“By rote
...joke? ”

“But it’s not April Fool!
It’s the middle of February! ”

“Yes but...if I had waited
for April Fool’s Day

You would have known
I was having you on! ”

You somehow
logic.

“Oh, come
here! ” you say.

“And let me give you a hand
with that! ”

“Quark! ”
I moan.

my love for
her
is strictly
platonic,
because what else
could it be?

I sit on her
couch
and smile at every
single
word she says.
Her soft hand
touches
my knee, exposed
by my shorts,
as she laughs.
Out of nowhere she states,
“I like the
idea
of heaven, but
only
if there’s not a
hell.”
I realize then what
triggered
that statement.
we were talking about religion,
ironic to me is just that,
we were talking about religion
while I worship the
ground
she walks on.

My love for
her
is strictly
platonic,
I worship her,
but only as a
friend.

A river of lies flows from the White House.
Watch as the river widens each day.
Watch as it gains speed and momentum
And all credibility flows away.

The reasons for firing James Comey,
FBI Director, are scattered:
Because of Comey's treatment of Clinton's
Emails? Really, as if that mattered.

Then it was a DoJ
Suggestion that Trump was acting upon,
Adding another story to the
Great pretense phenomenon.

Next in an interview,
Trump sang another song--
That he had really wanted to fire
James Comey all along.

A man whom Trump had praised in the past
Was simply a "showboat," a "grandstander,"
Who'd lost control of the FBI.
Watch the river of lies meander.

We have heard a different story
Having to do with loyalty--
That Comey was fired because he wouldn't
Bow down before the royalty.

Just mention "Putin," "Russia," "hacking,"
"Collusion," and yes, "investigation,"
And the "You're fired!" president
Acts out of desperation.

Has Trump considered telling the truth?
He and his team should give it a try.
If they are going to make up stories,
At least they ought to stick to one lie.

- by Bob B (5-12-17)

YOU LIKE TO BUY CDS / YOU LIKE TO SIT ON YOUR WINDOW SILL AND SMOKE **** AS YOU LISTEN TO 80S MUSIC AND PONDER THE MYSTERIES OF THE UNIVERSE / "LISTEN, BABY. LISTEN TO THAT." / YOU LISTEN TO EVERY SONG / EXCEPT NUMBER THREE / "IT'S A FILLER TRACK, BABY. IT'S THE ONE THAT NEVER MAKES THE PLAYLIST. IT'S THE ONE THAT'S ALWAYS SKIPPED." / YOU LAUGH AND KISS MY FOREHEAD

BUT BABY, I'M YOUR TRACK NUMBER THREE.

a romance stronger than *** egos not
ever known just a sweet touch of afar and
birthdays and christmases
keeping in touch through the
long distance fog of so many years
she makes cakes I taste
by her descriptions
only
we fuss
like we live together
and we have never touched
I told her my secrets she absorbed
and I held her through some dark times
in absentia just my voice
she cried on my virtual shoulder
I loved her so many times
in my imagination
we have made love so many times
by words
that's my muse

White Walls with Lavender and wildflowers placed around the room-
everything was perfect.
Lacey table decor with Lavender glasses displayed with each name tag-
everything was perfect.

Dad came in with tears in his eyes and Mom was there to help me get that dress on-
everything was perfect.
My best girls by my side with dreams of romance in their eyes and smiles on those perfect faces.
everything was perfect.

Two minutes before we walk down the aisle to say those vows I have rehearsed a thousand times in the mirror.
everything was going to be perfect.
Breathing in and out as my best friend and maid of honor asks me how I'm doing.
everything had to be perfect.

One minute before I walked through those doors and he would be there waiting for me like he always has been.
One minute before I made the biggest decision of my life.. the most lasting decision of my life no matter what the future holds.

But at 30 seconds before I walked down the aisle to my future husband...
you came flying through that door.
I froze.
You froze.

And in that moment I knew...
nothing was ever going to be perfect.