Not Seeking New Worlds

It wasn't pointed ears, it was the box

Of feelings locked and hidden that made

Spock my father's idol. I preferred the Captain.

Emotions didn't seem

To hurt him as he steered the ship

Through meteors and Klingon raids. My favorite

Was the episode he fell in love. Dad always said

I was too sensitive.

Feelings were the enemy, green

With five arms and a laser gun. I was trained

To laugh softly, if at all,

And never to cry. Computers

Don't even have to eat.

They have many lives, these space men,

Returning to my fortress,

Blasting repeatedly. I knew

I needed help.

On heroin, pure reason's almost

Possible. Emotions are easy

To suffocate, and I am smart

And logical enough to earn the cash

To keep the blanket thick.

I am calm now, easier

To have around. I don't

Raise my voice as Dad says yet again

That homosexuals are sick and Art's

Unnecessary now that we have cameras.

I don't tell him

That when computers translated proverbs to Russian

And then back to English,

Out of sight, out of mind turned into

Blind and crazy.