Held Prisoner (a poem)

I can swear I heard waves,
gently washing on a shore,
but I could not see an ocean,
for I was locked under the cellar door

The wild man put me here,
after pounding my head on the floor,
he danced in the moonlight,
he never told me what for

Project Z (a poem)

Was it your fate to be imprisoned here?

You sit in the lotus position, clear your mind,

practicing techniques The Collective taught you –

remember that Project Z must be defended,

Portia will penetrate your puny brain, drain

your memories to catch a glimpse of vital data,

the antidote to utter control over Techno-City.

Thank you for helping me escape from the nightmare –

I thought I’d never be free from the cold cell in my mind,

where the warden stood silent outside – where yellow-eyed

rats scurried from dark corners and ate my supper – where

every day was a dark winter’s afternoon, and drifts of cold air

blew through barred windows, and I shivered in rags on the

dirt floor. Thank you: I have my freedom now, and I will march

the city streets, demanding freedom for the others, the ones

also imprisoned by the nightmare.