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Friday, April 5, 2024



Escape From New York, as a song:


(C) 2022 Kyrinn S. Eis
All Rights Reserved Worldwide

I've been in the business some time.
From heyday to this vindictive list
--dying days to scratch-off old lines:
insert knife blade and give it a twist.

Nothing but failing Nation States
and Corporate Orbital Popes;
on the right hand old ethnic hates;
--and bloody handed rings to kiss.

The Creed paid well, but mind your back,
and the Oath, their checks always clear.
Old Lone Wolf leader formed his pack;
and Gullfire missions knew no fear.

Like death's pall descending Oathen
infiltrators stole the thunder
from the Wolf of Eastern foemen
: details of Atomic Numbers.

Heavy Water; mighty lasers
Fusion captured in magnetic
bottles; mentioned Thorium?
--I just tried to follow orders.

Stateside this war hero stumbled,
found this bag with million dollars;
these NPF pigs and I rumbled and
now I'm here on Liberty Island.

Something 'bout the President gone,
missing somewhere in the Boroughs;
fallen clear before plane went down
--tricked me into being thorough.

Ticking timebombs in my neck, they
injected with broad spectrum update;
gave the Prez their very best case
scenario where he's been led away safe.

There's been a major complication:
The tracking bracelet has changed hands,
No longer on the President.
Streets pat'rolled by Warlord's kill bands.

Enter deadly Delena...
inventor Melvin's only squeeze:
sent to mind him by, the Duke
of New Amsterdam, --if you please.

Took a crossbow bolt to my thigh;
Fought in a ring, guy twice my size;
Emergency beacon activated and
grabbed the Prez and made for the prize.

Gullfire glider had been cut loose;
No way back out except for Cabbie,
blasting old tunes through dark streets.
The Duke, in pursuit, to cook our goose.

Cabbie, Delena, Melvin, all dead.
Prez and Me, on foot now fled to
Liberty Wall where sling lift waited
But, the Duke, he had other plans...

Saw Ronnie Thatcher up and out.
Fought the Duke waiting for the sling,
'til Prez Thatcher did his thing, and
Shouted, "I'm the Duke!, I'm the Duke!"

Shot him up, like, really bad...
"C'mon, c'mon," I grabbed the line,
hoisted high.  Dropped down hard
conscious of the time: Pinprick charges

Asked baby Ronnie about the cost, how
many good lives had been lost.
Prez Thatcher's reply was, "Tragic, Tragic..."
Made the switch, and then I walked out.

Still can hear it, to this very day:
The stunned silence, a mortified State,
instead of fusion secrets to pave the way,
as Cabbie's tune world-wide played.

Without that hope, the oil war,
raced like fire across the globe;
made Australia a 'No-Go' Zone
But that's a tale for another time.


 o "Call me, Snake."

Friday, April 5th, 2024

Since I'm older than you, and I enjoy my Birthdays, I'm going to risk upsetting you and wish you a Happy Birthday anyway.  You see, Love, I am thrilled that you are alive, and even though we aren't located in a house together, where I can gaze into your lovely eyes; bake you just the right sort of cake (vanilla with chocolate ganache frosting, right?), and make fun of your mis-matched socks while we sit around and watch TV and Netflix until dinner, I can think about it and hope that your day is a sweet one with a little magic.

As far as I'm concerned, the world is a lot less lonely with you in it, and I hope you can feel the same.

My Beautiful Woman is Alive!