by James Cactus
We will have decided to bomb the Moon. Improvised
explosive devices bearing a payload of [microfiche,
culture shock, and plutonium] will be delivered as
soon as is possible (within reason) to the Sea of
Tranquility by rabbits. A document warden will take
hold of their passports and cash card. Because they
cannot walk while carrying ordinance, the lagramorphs
will take backpacks by Jansport, a well-regarded college
apparel brand. Hexagons (which have the unique ability
to tessellate) will be used to describe the boundaries of
their personal space in war game simulations. Seating
at the front of the bus should be addressed in Spanish,
the language of Spain. A short film is being produced
to commemorate the event, which historians broken
from the prison of linear time (a common cause of
production bottlenecks) have already (i.e. after) called
“a film.” Stick it to the profundum by posting “I’d kill
space were it to assume mortal form.” Today’s bombing
and its consequences: a hill at Echo Park Lake was
dynamited, prompting ducks to declare People’s War
against Capricorns, Libras, and their pets. Additionally,
the Lunar Calendar has desynchronized, rendering Butte
illiterate. Elsewhere, Charlotte Thompson of Paris,
Texas has been taught to french inhale. She is thirty-
seven, and was deeply affected by the anti capitalist
themes in Supersize Me!. For the third time this year
Thompson has known true love. Van Nuys, California,
vanished thirty-one hours ago, but spirits remain high.
James Cactus is the poetry editor of Protean Magazine.
