EVERYTHING
the daisy
chain you
are wearing
has become
barbed wire
but who foresaw
this transformation?
nailed it down
as per
causality?
I am moved by your poem
shed three and five tears
but
forgive me
if I am holding out
for an explanation
believe
poem can be
the key
to unlock
everything
AUNTIE
auntie
knows best
she banned
the sex pistols
and they
were
pure poetry
lampooned
the punk
sensibility
which lassoed her
back with a
lait of
barbed wire
sowed
satirical fire
telling her and
the whole damned
lot of them
their fundanental
humanity
left
a lot
to be desired
saw
before any of us
the hole in the heart
of this
terminally convoluted
self-
sabotaging self-
disregarding machine
auntie
knows best
she banned the sex pistols
not an idea
in her head
CARDS
let me
drift off for a
moment
step out
of the picture
read
the cards
get a prediction
of what awaits me
and, as
a matter of
implicit consequence
most
certainly the wider world
making me
a figure as iconic
as prophetic
a buttetfly fellow
whose every flap of
confusion
signifies story
to follow
eventual doom
WHAT THE SATIRIST
TOLD ME
tell me
about yourself
so I
can really
offend you
feel my words
razor sharp
as they slice
flesh from bone
VILLAIN
each of us are a villain
in some origin story
my phone alarm sings
celestial cosmic sounds
at 5.20
in the morning
(exact
moment I was born
making me an
ascendant Aquarian)
and news of airstrikes
all over the media
preparations
for the SuperBowl, one
week away to see
which team of
scarlet supremos
will
be champions of the world
the world
being America, it is a
killer synecdoche,
poet as villain
not with you
thetefore against you
further from grace
with my every little diatribe
MAKE DO
I slipped you
a tube of brutality
that you might
better acclimatize to
accommodate
the world
but hard as you tried
with vices and pliers
cutters and torches
you could
make no headway
getting the good
stuff out
and so, as agreed,
with ran
with plan b
reverted to kindness
and the pursuit
of sainthood
not what
we had hoped for,
but
it allowed you
you make do.
GENRE we presupposed it was fairy tale it was a natural presupposition we were not well acquainted with cosmic horror and understandably, who expects the great ancient demigods to claw their way up to the surface right in the midst of a military campaign of ethnic cleansing fuelled by religious demands for mass extermination clearly we need to learn much much more about the spectrum of genres
WAY I am considering the weight of the rain said considering meant contemplating taking its temperature tasting for salinity, acidity sweetness wondering how much of this a single drop can bear and not be soured by the blood and ash it is carrying such volcanic emptiness here every drop needed, regardless, place of most brutal imaginings waiting for the rain to have its way
BATTLEFISH
you thought
sea is for fish
but I know
it’s for battleships
if you cannot
see this
you know
nothing of religious narrative
nothing of the supreme
design and plan
AND NOW WE KNOW and now we know a Heaven on Earth is not for sharing the beauty of its precincts matched by the horror of its walls and the power that is prayed for in its golden temples seem so cynical in the light of the multitudes who suffer in this life
poems 2 die for