By Matt Mann

A Live-Action Dystopian Novel (a Poem) (part one)

And as May the 22ndth came to an end Biological Diversity celebrated, Something sinister stirred from within. UH OH we said! OH NO, we rue thst day! For the Manhattan Mole-weevils marched forth From the sewer’d depths of… (Well… Manhattan obviously.) A new threat to the world Mole-weevil’ing themselves through our fields. Just as their infestations began to grow, Here came MORE! THE WOE! The Self-Service Cashier Computer Catastrophes Of June the 24th! Sentient now, Laser scanners now deadly, Tired of mass amounts of user errors And receipts printed, taken by no one. Just as we reached to pull proverbial plugs To get them under control The Bombardments rained down From massed Parisian pestilence pigeons …um, where’d they come from? No one knew their origin But oh the devastations left in their wake. Windshields white and caked; Not one single white frosting’d pastry baked. Industry groaned… Governments moaned… Who was going to control all of this? Where was man’s hope? Ah, Listen… From the hills… Wait… that… that sound? Flowed from the mountains, The horror of all of them… Which we historically note as The Invasions of August, The Spurned Billy Goats. Seeking refuge from the wiles of life They’d sought refuge in their cousins’ cliff homes. Rejected, dejected, they rushed the earth, Ate everything, took fields for their own. Mankind now weakened, Weary from the invasions The Infestations And infections all around. Coexisting with creations abominable Seeking cures and concocting plans To just make it on their own.

…now, dare we discuss October and more?