
EMPIRE OF THE ANTS


OFF THE SCALE
the Sun
beamed through my window
only to
take issue with me
scorch the files
on my computer
leaving me desperate
to get a handle on
electromagnetism
so much fire out there
in here
as chatbot and I
argue the toss
over philosopher
Catherine Malabou
and other
anarchist thinkers
wondering about
the Sun’s role
in authority, Apollonian
regal power
and how that
might avail itself
to tyranny
especially the kind
with solar ring of confidence
branded by beaming smile
YES YANIS
“the surreal colonizing the real”
Yanis Varoufakis
Columbus would have made it
if he had not traded
his ships in for jet skis
and surf boards
would have made it
to the Pacific
if he had not
stopped off in DC
to watch the
Army Navy game
his progress tracked
by GPS satellite, with
constant updates on
FOX, CNN and
alternate media
(outside Columbia and
MIT braves from
the seven nations having
set up
protest encampments)
Zadie so worried
whether her hypothetical
Zionist student would
not be bound
to feel aggrieved, suffer
horrific identity collapse
if hole in your vessel
easy to find a plug in DC
use a member of the house
the Hatter would tell Christopher
as the tenor got weirder
and the teapots all ran out
tea enough
still perhaps
after a previous party
floating in the harbour, but
for a great teapot at
this time of writing, a
wanderer did inform him,
you might
have to consult Boeing and
the military
industrial complex
Ah, the logic, the methodology,
suffice it to say, pure area 51
pure Man Ray,
pure
little girl without arms
bullet
through her head this
tale of Wonderland
is not about
you came to these shores and did
not expect to find palaces
did not expect to
encounter castles
golden dubloons maybe,
perhaps
a golden gate bridge
but not a landscape of
golf course and tenement
and cloud
saturated with capital
dodging those Lakota arrowheads
they said that
here there
would be no King
everybody would be a king
as
many kings on deck
as playing cards
Christopher somehow now
up in the Rockies inside
the Overlook Hotel
ghostly overseer Stanley
whispering in his ear
an adage that
colonization is
the heart
of the horror
colonization
the name
of the original sin
Yes, Yanis
still waiting for the cartoon
version of what I scribbled
down here
have commissioned Salvador Dali
have pleaded with Picasso

A BONE TO PICK
what you said
on TV months early
if not sanctimoniously
then with astonishing conviction
I sat on your front lawn
my campfellows battling
to resurrect children
fitting mashed
body parts together
I sat there Googling
desperately for
a technology of salvation
when the ghosts of those
slain when you made
your case
that for reasons of
defensive measure
the slaughter
must continue
marched up silently
to your front door
informing you
ever so
ever so
politely
that if
could spare the time
they did indeed
have a bone
to pick with you
ROCKET
good rocket morning
to express
my love
a rocket
is on its
way to
you
watch the sky
should arrive
in a
couple
of seconds
expecting the flaah
I will be
watchimg
the sky too
LIVESTREAM
.
woke up
minutes
before
the dawn
still alive
so made
some coffee
read the news
being livestreamed:
no nuclear
war in the laat
quarter
of an hour
quiet
hosannas
and hallelujahs
hope that
despite our
terminally insane
rulets and
leaders
the world might
just survive
the hour
ZADIE (3)
Oh Zadie
your words
hurt me
I was wandering
along the periphery
eating an onion
gifted me
by Roland Barthes
when
I overhead a word
that hit me with
all its 50 megatons
and so, I had no option,
but to
take it to heart
which
would have killed me
had not realised,
it was
not
actually a bullet
and only like a bomb
by virtue
of
analogy
a prime (should I say
“primed”) example of
metaphoric
thinking
and I rose
to go on
my way
fight again another day
but then another bullet
hit me, though
you may say
I just walked into
it
but luckily, was
a recent arrival, via
plucky trade
a miracle, God be praised!,
and I was saved
its manufacture British
Oh Zadie your
barrage, blast, MG-42 spray
so totally
nailed my argument.

POLICE BE
police be
a reality
peace
uphold
the vanity
steamroll through
happy metaphor
such as
carnival
of Peace
cracking heads
breaking ribs
the like it when
you go
crunchy
(much prefer
to smooth)
came in ranks
came in files
along
the flanks
a navy blue line
many navy blue lines
that
in storming
the stairs
fell
out of step, became
Mongol horde
become
throwback
sheriff and
all those deputies
Bob Marley missed
rowdy, bouncy,
sad that
there have
to be prisoners
their mission, God-given,
all about nipping whatsoever
with
measure
of violence
in the bud