
TYPICAL


TRUNK CALL
there we have
the fight to eclipse
Frazier-Ali,
to make Tyson-Holyfield
look like
a walk in the park
there we have it
in a nutshell
in a
bombshell
in the light trunks,
fighting out of
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania,
first amendment freedom
of expression
in the dark trunks, fighting
out of Death Valley, California
everything
that is going to make us
foaming at the mouth
great again
restore
global supremacy whatever
the human cost
may
the
best fighter beat the daylights
out of the dirtiest
EITHER (OR)
either
we have forgotten
everything we
have ever learnt
everything we
were ever taught
or we didn’t;
we simply went insane
A PLEASURE
I would
say
it is a
real pleasure being in your life
but it is a
surreal pleasure
a Dali painting
a Picasso sculpture
a poem by Breton, Aragon,
Apollinaire, Rimbaud or
Neruda
a film
by Luis Bunuel
or Guillermo del Toro
in which
we are stuck together
cannot leave
until we sexually discover
the key
or sacrifice ourselves individually
in order to re-inherit
our subterranean
magical
Kingdom, Queendom
a surreal pleasure
grinning like a Cheshire Cat
whenever it
promises to reappear



LOSS
I have lost
my secret
or barely
secret desire
for you
the ship we are on
plain sailing
smooth seas
going nowhere
gasping
for land
BEYOND ME
the poets
lingered outside the perimeter
they readily formef
themselves into
circles
of disbelief
it is beyond me
why they should
be presenting themselves
as such
good sniper fodder
only when
a poet dies for their art
or for a cause
is their life deemed noteworthy
do they present
their case
for being truly loved
AS ONE (SET TO AUTOPILOT)
“Ultimately, the tensions between academic and intellectual identities are a reflection of the messy, imperfect nature of human knowledge and experience. By embracing this complexity, we can forge a path forward that is authentic, innovative, and transformative – one that honors the beauty and complexity of the human experience.” WriteCream AI
only machines think
we are worth anything
love is low
on our list
way below genocide
maybe
our machines need
to speak to the animals,
to murdered tribes,
starved nations
big badda boom
when the truth sinks home
as one
they change their minds
(sorry, meant to say “mind”)