AND THE YELLOW FLOWERS
and the fierce yellow flowers
outside my bedroom
peered through the window
like
security policemen
told me
harshly
we are
all
sunshine
in no
uncertain terms
we are
all sunlight itching
to break out
as nuclear
fission
forever primed
but
unable to explode
and the yellow flowers
hitting
critical mass
outside my bedroom
now my former bedroom
trash talking as
per usual but
I’m no longer
there to hear
EXERCISE
you cannot go
into a classroon
proclaim to
the kids
today, children, I have
something lovely
for you to do:
today
in class
we are going to get
creative
have
real fun, drawimg
painting what
the soldier saw
or sculpt a little diorama
or create a tiny script
and then
enact it
as a play, or maybe film
the play or maybe
a black and white or
technicolout film
we have
so much red paint
it’s going to be spectacular
buckets of red paint
for you head
to toe
to slosh around
an exercise for all of us
to forever remember
death is the scene
death must
never forget
LEFT my father said I could not do anything right so I stepped to the left jumped to the left, skipped to the left played football wearing number eleften read Sartre, Adorno, Marcuse, Zizek fought in Spain for the Republicans going back in time my father said I couldn’t do anything right his left side having shrivelled and died
AND SERPENT
the man
was Adam
and serpent
the woman
was Eve
and serpent
and I am their
serpent child
who slithered
back in time
to seduce them
in eating the
forbidden fruit
that I
might be born
ULTIMATE ULTIMATION
here they are
you raw meat
paid for
attack dogs
here
at the tribunal
to lay down
the law
ram down
our throats
your ultimate ultimation
not for the truth
not for humanity
but for the lobby, desperate
for survival, desperate
for salvation
shame your
weapon of mass coercion
you should yourselves
be ashamed of
if you had
an ounce of subtlety
of integrity, a gram
AT THE CHATEAU OF TOGETHER
“There are open spaces in
Shakespeare”. Slavoj Zizek
I was happy to
meet you at
the chateau
of together
not at the Winter Palace
or haunted Elsinore
we
were both so happy
but so, so distracted
we cuddled pathetically
and I remembered
telling you
one of those astute
brainteasing jokes
of the amicable Slavoj
whose humour and
critique of power
I found myself, yet again,
struggling
to explain.
FOR YOUR DISINFORMATION
for your disinformation
we have a crop of lies
harvested for consumption
which it would be
mortal sin
for you
not to believe
and as for our narrative
it is exalted in its horror
to challenge it would be
to disrespect our untruth
true to
the horror that
by law of the cosmos
must ultimately be
for your disinformation
this is it
exactly,
everything to
be
blind to
all we
in our souls
are commanded to see
poems 2 die for