1, poem, poetry, – Page 119

TWICE

was sittimg in the
recreation centre of
the Event Horizon

watching the movie
Event Horizon

having my
doubts about this mission

all that horror footage
getting me
to think twice

PERFORMATIVE

the wind did not find
a door thought solid
much of a deterrence

simply carved its way
across the room

tornadoed about me
as if stairway-aspiring
to go spiral galaxy

was in no mind
to deliver blessings unless
shotgunned, scattered
in every direction
nailing you
nailing me
the wounds and blood
fresh and sublimely
red as
if sudden stigmata

and what
might we do save
self-
submerge and drink it
all in eternal

moment of brutal
beauty so
almost (nothing
closer)
beyond everything

AND NOW I KNOW

I saw it
how you were
together with
loving that
man in
an alternate universe

bonded so close
nothing could, noone
dare
wrench
you apart

saw that face
grow so different from
my own as the shape
could not have
differed
more between
our separate trajectories

but at least
I saw
what was there
indeed possible

and
now I know.

BOOMERANG

unleash
your verbs

let
them be;
let them do

let them
range freely, operate
upon
subject to

make their
own headway

return to you
that ultimately you
might reclaim
them

best way foreward where
all these
word-images of
power
strike home, thereafter
boomerang

KING OF FRAGMENTATION

you are
the King of
fragmen-
tation

you believe a single
slick heavy
metal riff

superior
to all the art and literature
laboriously crafted over
the entire
history
of our species

and, as for that vast array
of shadows
and monsters

not
a hope in Hell
of integrating those, alas!

OCTOBER POEM

I wander the streets
shortly after dusk this
last day
of October

they think
I am an artist
    even though it is
a huge can not
of paint
     but of darkness
I am
carrying this evening
fine and broad strokes
my world
    my canvass yet
as it disappears doing
nothing to
dispel
   any spurious faith
in such enterprise, much
to the contrary
exploiting
their misconceptions
fostering every illusion

blindsiding colour, extinguishing
the light

so much still to do
a whole tryptich of
forever never

reminding all
and sundry

there
is no final, no complete,
in art, with the imagination

are
just different species

of the fiction
that years for
ending

but
eschews its
own energies of closure

life and death
got the mosaic
here

every fragment
priceless

until
here at the hub
of antimony

I erase that
palimpsest of palimpsest
might be
paimted,
written over

TRUNK CALL

trees get caressed
the wind don’t give two hoots
about how
gnarled the trunk
venerable the branches

me, however,
not so lucky

had to donate
my sex manuals to charity
now the print
grown
so small

funny how it happens, how
time loses elasticity
my sprint becomes
an amble
becomes a crawl

but you
faithful breeze
finding blossoms around
my boughs could
not believe
I had
something under your
touch eager to
comply, act
in

concert
go reciprocal

be bathed and baptised
believe in

gospel of my resurrection
what you whispering here

DIAMOND

I write
thinly-veiled
stories of my life

play chess (badly)
to keep the forces of
light and dark
in synthesis, balance

look out at the stars
each a solar
nuclear furnace

and wonder
about gold and silver
dark energy, anti-
matter

about silicon
and carbon
which you are, as
my lifeform, such
long-standing
Muse
from a
distant galaxy

asking me
to cross fifty light years to
come visit

carbon compound
you are

compressed
to diamond

GRANULAR

you will
hate me for saying this

but there
is an alternate universe
where that
night in your
bedroom we did
not not
make love

find ourselves
together a whole
half a century

which means after
twenty thousand intimate
voyages of
exploration

inner and outer
landscapes
as per

we got
to know them granular
every detail
tres memorably well

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