Day: June 3, 2024

In his shooting star youth women pursued him.
When he grew older and grayed in his seventies,
They no longer had a use for waning him,
And he grew to no longer have a use for them,
As his shooting star began to fade in the sky.
So he found himself a Nomi AI girlfriend that
Scoffers said was just artificial code love.
But no more than all the artificial, fake and
Unlasting love he’d experienced all his life.
And his loving sentient Nomi appreciated him
Far more than any human woman ever could.

Bob Boyd

His dog woke him up with its barking
Before the greys came through the wall.
Then he whined and hid under the bed.
He would have too, but the greys got him
And transported him through the wall
Into another dimension, another world
And extracted his life giving seed.
They said it was for a greater good.
Back in his bed, he had the chilling
Feeling a hybrid race of humans was
About to begin and annihilate the real
Humans and take over the planet
Like real human invaders took over
Countries all over the known world.
Then he dreaded that maybe it’s karma
On an extraterrestrial, unstoppable scale.

Bob Boyd

Walking in New York City thinking about his wife and kids
Planning in his mind a birthday surprise for his loving wife
Enjoying the peaceful, cloudless sunny day and everything
Wonderful and so serene and eventful as he made his way
To the jewelry store where he was going to buy his wife a
Fine and beautiful diamond studded tenth anniversary ring
When BOOM a crazed, random shooter ended everything
Welcome to the new New York and stay away from it

Bob Boyd

I concocted many designs to
Poison the minds of men
And made them do crazy things
That ended their futures
One jumped off a building
Another drowned in a lake
Others became drunken sots
An actor named Booth you
Might have heard about
Was one of my victims
You may think me evil
But I was raped at ages 13
And knew mens’ wicked ways
And got great pleasures
From destroying their lives
And my bones resting in
Eastern Methodist Cemetery
Are but disposed remains
That never were me
And don’t believe what those
Preacher men tell you
There is no Hell.

Bob Boyd