Canto Sixty-Two – In Lester’s Flower Garden
Sizzahl came running into the Arboretum as fast as her feet would work. She slammed the door behind her. Lester and Brekka both looked up startled. Lester’s two extra heads also looked, as did sixty-five buds whom Lester had started growing to feed his/her friends and provide more plant-people as well.
“What’s the matter, Sizzahl?” asked Brekka trying to rub sleep out of her eyes.
“Uncle Makk is trying to kill me.”
“Oh, yes! That reminds me. Lester told me that he was a clone with robot programming. I meant to tell you all about it.”
“Thanks, Brekka. That definitely would’ve been useful to know a bit sooner.” Sizzahl was smiling a grim, determined smile.
“What do you want me to do now, Sizzahl? Lester said I should eat Makkhain myself.”
“Ah, please don’t do that, Brekka.”
“Yeah, good. Thank you. But maybe Lester can help by eating him for me.”
“Um, no. I love him, even if he isn’t really my uncle. I may let him win and destroy this planet. Maybe he and the other Galtorrians are right. Maybe we don’t deserve to live. Maybe this planet needs to be rid of us.”
At that moment Alden and Gracie came in through a door that led to the sleeping nests. Both of them were nude again, but both were breathing hard and looked determined. Both had obviously heard what Sizzahl had just told Brekka.
“No, Sizzahl. You won’t let the bad guys win. You have to fight for what is good. You are good, and we love you.” After gasping out her impassioned speech, Gracie bent over and grabbed her knees. She seemed a bit short of air.
Alden, also breathing like he’d run a marathon, didn’t say a word until he had reached Sizzahl and put both arms around her neck. He hugged her.
“You are like a daughter to us. You even made more children for us. You have to be here to help us raise them.”
Sizzahl wept. She hugged Alden fiercely. And Gracie came to them both to put her arms around both and turn it into a family group hug.
“Together. We belong here more than we ever belonged on Earth. We stand together for whatever comes next,” said Gracie.
Brekka felt Lester wrap a leaf around her as if he or she or it was also giving a hug.
*****
Catch a Falling Star 
Mickey Being Mickey
A new day dawns. It leaves me wondering. Who am I today? Who will I be tomorrow?
The opportunity to have any sort of control over who and what I am is coming to a close. I don’t really know how much longer I have before pain and illness dissolve me into nothingness. But death is not the end of existence. I may be forgotten totally by the day after next Thursday, but my existence will still have become a permanent fact. Yes, I am one of those dopey-derfy-think-too-much types known as an existentialist.
I am feeling ill again. Any time that happens may be the last time. But that doesn’t worry me.
The important thing is that the dance continues. It doesn’t matter who the dancers are, or who supplies the music.
We can be clowns if we choose to be.
We can safely be fools if we really can’t help it.
An awful lot of awful things go into who and what we are. Those things make us full of awe. They make us awesome. Aw, shucks. What an awful thing to say.
But what is all this stuff and nonsense really about today?
It’s just Mickey being Mickey… Mickey for another day.
It’s not really poetry. It certainly isn’t wisdom. It’s a little bit funny, and only mildly depressing… for a change.
It’s just Mickey being Mickey. And a partially Paffooney gallery.
…To fill some space today.
And wonder about tomorrow.
And just be Mickey a little bit more.
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Tagged as Mussorgsky, Pictures at an Exhibition