IN HELL THERE IS NO HUMANITY
in Hell
there is no humanity
nothing collective, shared
or universal
just
Slice N’ Dice
fragmentation
upon fragmentation
but music there is,
if the cacophony of suffering
should ever
set into a rhythm
strike a tune
on its way to achieving
pre-planned and project
managed
levels of production
the eternally tight schedules
that devils like to keep
loving
the massive profits
forever configured
in this
their system of
anti-belief
SWEET
good day
to die
day to die
with whipped cream
and sweet
red cherry on
the top
and perfect cherry blossoms
for you too
my lords Oda and Katsimoto
you see them
from our world of pain
as seppuku
takes you
across the river
through the veil
and extra scoop
of fudge ice cream for all
who turned up
for the wake
sweet fudge caramel
ice cream
cold as a glacier
have to
stall
here at this place
this moment
as words
freeze
CHANCE
spied you
playing with dice
betting as you were
against the cosmos
maybe
it would be better
to play with fire
sad to see you lost
sad to
tell everybody
something to do
with cursed sequence
and bad fractals
I know this
been there
done that
watched from my
fiction of a promontory
as everything ran
down
hill from here
Valentino Rossi
popping a wheelie
in sixth gear
thought
I could have
another go another throw
by unanimous consent
agree to reconsider
last last chance
the dice so obviously
heavily loaded
ninety-nine
times out of
a hundred to
cast snake eyes
DEEP
I have been
absorbing nitro-glycerine
eating shadows
feeding every kind
of parasitic monster
on the suspicion
they might
be able to tell me something
divulge some
out of this world truth
from the crazy
unfathomable deep
SMALLER
I used my power
to turn my world
smaller
and smaller
make the Sun
a tiny ink dot
myself
a thing so small
its size
is incomprehensible
the square root
of nothing
sum
of its consciousness.
WONDER
I wonder
where they come
up with them
am these
so called
wonderful days
the light soright
you can hardly
see anything
the joy so rapturously
sung here there
and everywhere
drowning out all
you might need or
wish to hear
HEART
hate how
you
read me
like a book
skim
the best pages
get to the heart
of my text
assuming
I have heart
DEVICE
it’s good that politicians
measure blood exactly
know to the recurring decimal
how much blood
resides in
an eye
when
exchanged for another eye
or a liver, spleen
or a brain
or a fat ton of innards
ripped out of the belly
they were
always in by
lethal fragmentation
weapon
or anti-personnel
explosive device
the weapons market considers
rather nice
poems 2 die for