
THE BOOK; THE WINE PRESS


ROLL
I let the world
roll
will find a hole,
a Plato cave to go
total Thomas Pynchon
though the pattern
need not be fractal
reek of brutally random
or at the highest
sub-god level
diabolical conspiracy
but you let me
rant and rave because
in the game
it’s zugtwang
cat got your tongue
neither do
nor speak
damned if you don’t
to an eternal pondering
of so rare a hopeless
configuration
of the pieces
clock ticking —
well, yours is at least!
mine sunning itself
with a mixed race Pisces
dragon pop star
somewhere
in Barbados
me Pisces too, and who
says I dare not drean?
who laid down an
edict
that if life be hopeless
cannot sublimate,
replace
with fantasy?
shirk every
tiresome responsibility
shirk realpolitik?
running on fumes, losing
gas, out
of propellant
the fat
part of the world (mum
as to which hemisphere)
has got
even fatter, gone
paranoid schizoid where
was just passive aggressive
see it up
but falling
down from the sky
bad
Icarus moment, raging
at the Sun (just as
it is about
to make an appearance)
sneering at that light, that heat
and here the dice
have rolled as they may
well short of snake eyes.
COMPULSION
Oh that compulsion
know it too well!
De Vere
with voices in his head
seeking the silence
of paper
get the words out
dancing on a stage
before they
send someone to
hang the author
guillotine them
(a seventeenth Earl
of Oxford) might
just survive
Shakespeare
needing money
to silence
his creditors
but a best bed so
he might bequeath
his current one
spend all day practising
spellings and signatures
scrawling
fervently up
and down the wall
go on alternate media
you can navigate them
slip your ship
between channel that
is Scylla
and channel
that is Charybdis
find island of polished equanimity that
might, in
its absence, serve
as truth
allow bucketfuls of
free download
Information dumps to fill
every gap in every picture
hole
in your argument
and there we are
positions intractable, titanic forces,
seismic struggles bound
to tsunami drown us
or devise
less topical death
big wave collapsing
somehow ricochet from
a bullet
a butterfly fired somewhere
tiny chaos I had in mind
put an O down on the page
(hazarding a circle)
to
at least make a beginning
amazed to see
the white of this ocean
storm, go
so beserk
feeding of which
energy
easy for the poem to
write itself in
delivering the rest


NEED TO
need to
juggle cobras
swallow
a snake
once in a while
do something to
develop such
unheralded power
that the world
take note
simply love to
learn to
accomodate with
me
rather than
me with
them keeping the status quo proof against vice versa
execution implicit,
possible all around
FIRST REFUSAL
Derrida
is in the forest
so beware lovers, children
be
excited
every plant has chenistry
there are carnivorous creatures
things shaped
to mirror your desire
anarchy
in the air
confusion in
the clouds
slip, slide
shifting
the twilight lingering
and whilst this
state of being persists
continues to pull us, call
us
who are we sad everyday
little mortals to refuse.

INSTEAD
branches
branch
forks
fork
it is in their nature
in their technology
to do so
out there
beyond our safe zone
unprotected from
cosmic rays
so much hidden
that may well be
over the rainbow to
darkest conspiracy
they call
it sysnthesis
but we know its
assimilation
tell us
it is time for the hybrid
but what we envision
is mix and match of parts
down
in the body shop
much angle grinding
up there batteries of missiles
thick as shark’s teeth
orbiting us daily
to protect us
enshrine us
just
(small point)
would this not
at least look better if
pointed that way
out at the
horrible unknown
not
at us instead?
CLOCKWISE
I had my house cleaned
got my
clock cleaned
every follicle
of my body
washed and dried
dried and waahed
painstakingly
until it all paid off
and me
shining
like a new pin
all my brass
parts buffed
so
pleased with the service
what a big tip
I did give.