Two Shifts Passing in the Nightshecomeson a cyan-tailedcomet, bareback braving thesolar wind as you wet your lips andshe passes too close, dancing and dopplingthrough your star-dappled daydreams, anunearthly equestrian on ared-tufted stallionleavingyou |
— Stace Johnson, 1988
We kiss
In a swirl of
Effervescent golden
Green; mingled auras render us
In love.
— Stace Johnson, 1987
Vorticism 1987
Miniature relays flash
OpenClosed at lightspeed
Screeching print heads
Pepper paper with
Insignificant ink points.
Short-lived electrons catapult
Through cathode-ray tubes,
Explode in green-screen triumph
And quickly fade.
Working late at the office,
Basking in eerie emerald light,
I settle into my
Silicon Mother’s arms.
— Stace Johnson, 1987
Rockwood 1887
A grumbling black dragon
Snakes its way among snowy crags
Cursing the cold with blasts
Of steam and soot.
Its piercing scream rebounds
From ancient cliffs
As it once again challenges
The mountain.
— Stace Johnson, 1987
Rockwood
Winter marshmallows top lazy
Green Animas waters in the
Short daylight of a steep canyon.
An adventurous snowball
Hurls itself
From the forty-story cliff,
Spinning, twisting, sparkling, bounding
In freefall until
It splashes into the icy green.
Another victorious marshmallow.
— Stace Johnson, 1987
