SETTING  (for JM Coetzeeon his 83rd birthday)

SETTING  (for JM Coetzee
on his 83rd birthday)

the pain
is embedded
has become
geological

so
deeply impacted
revelation is going
to be
  extinction level
be seismological

and there we are (time
as we now
    see
          thing quite unreal)

looking down from
the reverse slope of Devil’s Peak
out over the flat suburbs
(dust and sand
              of ocean reclaimed)

but your mind is
far into the interior
digging up the bones
that tell us
      pain is history;
history pain

somehow they cannot convert
your cerebral into spectacle
no technicolour out there
to match your austere

somehow
        intensity here has
of necessity to be
sharp
    and sweet

somehow
      these titanic currents, seas
meeting
        twisting, contorting

all going to
      flow ultimately
                        transformed
in that wash

for now
    so precious little melding,
blending
                                    hope
for the rude rudiments
of a comfort zone
            (plane almost scraping the
lids off shanties take offs
and landings
                      whole other, true,
South Africa
    cannot just wish away)

and there you are
                        delivered
of all our quandaries
all our questions
            bitter conundrums

absorbing the crimson sunset light
in your paradise of refuge

do you
          not think of us    recall
what was lived through?

take a
        last look our way

scan sky far
      to the West    where Sun
is forever setting

Sent from my iPhone

LIGHTS OUT

LIGHTS OUT

lights out for you
for me

lights out for us both, for
us all
to the edge
of infinity

and we haven’t even talked
had dinner together
and what
comes after

and so now we know
there ain’t no after
so wrap yourself
in your body blanket
construct
a Faraday cage

dig around to uncover
a shovel put
together a bunker

maybe unearthing
signs
of comet impacts
and lost
civilizations

all the way down
I wished we might
go down

LET ALONE MEET

LET ALONE MEET

wearing my shirt
totally Lovecraft coloured
black sarcophagus

in my backpack the book
that opens up secret passageways

me eyes
laser slice

stare down the sky provoking
extreme lightning

dark matter dark energy
anti matter
                    made of
the stuff
      you would
rather
not think about

let alone meet

ODDS ON

ODDS ON

bet you
don’t encounter
too many wobbly
xenomorphs
out there

coming here to conquer
and convert you
teach you
the truth
of their
unbalanced philosophy

so many equivalences between
our worlds and cultures

including our deep
religious faith
in four-
lane highways and
reality
TV the black hole of

consumption we
were created to be

GRACE

GRACE

by grace of
was saying grace straight
forty days
and forty nights

had to survive the flood
by surfing on my plate

could have
said it as
an epigram
spoken it
as haiku

no
saving grace
as every unsavoury creature

made its way to gorge its
greedy seven-
deadly self

turning our feast
into a mockery

as
bone-headed
as it
graceless gets
and raw
a ritual rhapsody

THE GODS OF FOOTBALL

THE GODS OF FOOTBALL

the gods of football
turned against us

they scripted our defeat
up there, in the stars

No. They didn’t.
I checked with them
and they swore that
they hadn’t bothered to watch
were much
more interested in
the Burrow/Mahomes match up

than teams committing suicide
via the failed execution
of a diabolically bad plan

WELCOME

WELCOME

welcome to the intergalactic
vessel Aristotle

headed towards
the galaxy Andromeda

the flight time is estimated
at three hundred
million years

we hope you enjoy
the flight

in the event of our
capture by
an alien civilization

please read the manual stored
behind the seat in front of you
detailing the entire
history of exo-, astro- and xenobiology
in science fiction
from HG Wells to
Philip K. Dick