EMPEROR
“The only Emperor
is the Emperor of Ice Cream”.
Wallace Stevens
Let’s get some
ices
currently spelled “iceSS”
the big esses there
to signify
exceSS
one fat lick
and you get
the instant brain freeze
you may not
have voted for
actually been asking
for
or,
iced in a trice,
may just be
three bullets point
blank through the face
catching
up with you
nine decades you
ducked them
but now they are here.
BECAUSE YOU STILL LISTEN
“My tongue betrayed me to the
butchers” Brecht
someone is listening
monitoring, eavesdropping,
looking for something
to
nip in the bud,
find full
flower
in their heart
someone listening
is about to plonk
me Adrienne
at the
dinner table
hold me hostage
vaporize humanity
whilst
we dine
all night
but truth
be told
I am quite hungry
am so hungry
haven”t eaten
a square meal
for a
thousand years
that starving
prodigal of
the parable
how effortlessly
I exceed him
what
fatted calf
was ever
sent my way
and yet
fortunate I am
compare those
who
simply died
at the very outset
or lived
through worst
of worst times
plague, famine, blitz,
slavery, torture
and every
subtle (and
not so subtle) flavour
of oppression
myself just chilling
at my desk
at school
told not to sit
exposed but
climb under, find
perfect safety
some rum run in
over the question
of missiles
blockades
and bluster
land of sun
and sugar
embracing
the red philosophy that
told America “no”
the villain’s
children’s
smiling faces
on some canned
goods in my
Mother’s pantry
(bound to
be
simply
bound to be)
day of disaster
beyond
any other
somewhere children beaming
asking “what
is thermo?”
“what is nuclear?”
would not
be beaming if they truly knew
someone is
listening got
my gist
left
me thinking
if my tongue did
betray what
is there
to say?
DOVETAIL
the days dovetail
they print out
dot matrix
dolphin death to life
life to death
across the tawny edges
of the bottle blue/green sea
stuff
out there arcing
in and out of the water
my life
so flat by comparison
when I want
to am asked to
speak up speak out
my squeak
of a voice drowned out
by crescendo of a wave
mighty
as those at Nazare
and to think, metaphysically,
long as, I can remember,
I longed
for fluidity
inclining
towards the deep, I searched
for quantum level
affinity
and now
the deep, unannounced,
breaking protocol,
coming to find me,
no idea
of the rationale, no
idea what this means
the days dovetail
someone out there
could be
so kind as
to dump to print
KINSELLA FILM
saw
that Kinsella film
got it into my head
that if I built
you a
dance studio
you would come
maybe an outdoor
open air theater
would clinch the deal
drag you
down from Heaven
the one up there
or one, or
even more than one
down here
place more fine
more Heavenly
created with
a loving care
almost equal to mine
AT DAVOS
they all loved
your speech
sadly, I had missed it,
going full introspective
(had such
a hard on
for philosophical ideas)
and then
there was the warpaint
smeared a mask
across my face
with it
words flying at me slowly
half-heartedly
like blunderbuss bullets
need
a missile screen to
deflect them
golden
dome in my
brain AWACS in my pocket
sold on the need for
rigorous dissection,
deconstruction
of the spiritual segue
from
rupture
to rapture
when i
came back to myself
I saw you
pulling a crowd surf
every delegate
having lost it
gone 107%
apeshit
and poor Premier
Carney
still floating, sailing
over
everybody’s heads
not speaking the language
native to white people
telling it
like it is
staight brain
to mouth
no filter, zero intervention
fractured, incoherent,
as Mr Tommy Eliot’s
The Wasteland
was in its day
and so now
the rush
to reward, honour,
praise him
every Nobel Prize possible
every honorary degree —
institutions
tripping, falling
over themselves
to rewire
reinvent
install
the new Maga wisdom
screen out
every conceivable
Sophie Scholl
likely to rain
on this parade
SHUT
make
America
great again
send in
the Pied Pipers
with tear gas
and pistols
and pepper balls
too strong for tacos
shepherd, corall,
light
the big bonfire
square the
circle
make the flag big
exceptional, exponential,
bigger and bigger
stick it up
on a pole
tall as
an ICBM or
at least
puny cruise missile
expanding, contracting,
what need
Monroe, Donroe
doctrine
when flag shroud
swathes the planet
no more
talk of inside or outside
Rams, Patriots, Broncos,
Seahawks
there can,
must
be only one:
undisputed world champions
ball in
the endzone, ball
always next to your desk
and
in the meanwhile, as
the spotlights
turn
on
themselves, do morph
into searchlights
stars
on the flag eclipsing
the real
stars
themselves
no sense asking
where the pipers
took us
what did
with our children
was the
suicide of grace, assassination
of elegance
took
us to this place
gate
closed, locks snapped shut
MEDUSA
stared into
the face of suffering
your
hard suffering
that turns
to stone
turned me
to stone
relief to
my soft
suffering
equality in
the transaction
turning us
both
to stone
and they we were
amongst, what she
we call them
that
host of statues,
perhaps effigies?
but there you are
reptilian, murderous,
no crown
of thorns to adorn
only headdress of vipers
spitting, writhing,
their eyes
trying to make sense
of my pity
my sorrow
only thing to
match
your anger
blow for blow
run with your wrath
JIMA TRUMP
Iwo Jima Trump
planting the stars
and stripes
on closest thing
on Greenland
vaguely
resembling Mt Suribachi
garnering Peace Prize, Medal
of Valour, and
Purple Heart
in one
fell swoop
Vance and Rubio
there
to reload him
feed
him ammunition
Donald J D-
day overlord
of glory
MAGA disciples’ delight so
ecstatically high
all of them
self-
pleasuring themselves
everywhere,
the sexy swine
hot jizz melting
the ice sheath, turning
this arctic island
basically
as sweaty tropical a paradise
as Mar-a- Lago
O AMANDA
Oh Amanda,
I have you
in twenty
twenty hindsight
gone
totally
retrospective
just to
see
just how
badly you
recited us
how much not
just off key
off track
but mistaking
the climate
leading us off
in the wrong
direction
not climbing
the hill but
on death
descent down
the mountain
you there inspiring us
with hope, false hope
stuff
of bad ideology
in your sun yellow dress
beautifully assured
and
battling down
those slopes it was
all ice,
all winter, death
by exclusion, excision,
by bullets
through
the side
window at
point blank range
and the house
on the hilk with
its shining city
hoisting
an old hated, feared flag,
as bulldozers knock
down
and everything gets
restructured
need space for
the ritz whilst
homeless
go hungry
ghouls at the ball, macabre
how much space
they need
to dance and
twirl
and plot human structure
should have been
severe on yourself before
flaunting your
skills
before us
Miss Gorman,
should have checked
your subtext for
masquerade
and so
why should we climb
that hill
since we can buy one
elsewhere
greener, cheaper
take one out there
for ourselves
we write good poetry,
exceptional lines really
that
nothing
can compare with
the sun setting on that hill,
your hill
suddenly
I smell abyss
and feel the slippery slide
INCOMPLETE
there I
am
smile being
wiped off my face
the huge
being wiped
off my face
always
a price to pay
wear
and tear
always
a tariff
your face
falling
shares falling
I can see me whole life
in those dips and spikes
one to one
with my
cardio rhythms
if it
is all theatre,
masquerade
lets
my soul
become
pure ego
in the mirror
up on the screen
brash and burnished
over-inflated over
extended
dog day in
day out
dusk to
dawn derided
sad sack of a case
could not
be more
incomplete
poems 2 die for