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FAIR PROPORTION A

FAIR PROPORTION

they bring the hybrid
to his cell
she needs to talk to him
since species-wise she
has a fair proportion
of his genetic makeup

here she is
for what it’s worth
I agreed to meet her
hard to figure out
exactly what
is human
but one must
presume
it is there

so this is it
this is in me, embodiment
of what I am
capable
   the likeness is
there but everything
about him
seems guarded, hidden
as if he instinctively realizes
all that is terrible in
his capacity
   all that
    can be wrong, go wrong,
and he did terrible wrong

she aaked to talk to him
get answers to questions
she felt she needed
answers to, for her
crucially important

so she could figure out
for herself what is them
what is us

we talk
    She is so insistent in
going over things, knowing details,
minutiae, everything
exactly

I look at him one lsst time
try to see through those eyes
(I do not have human eyes
to me they
      are untrustworthy,
thoroughly upsetting)

I want to tell.him.
he might have, ought to,
have sought forgiveness
for his crimes, these
humsn crimes

senze
    a moment– out of nowhere
of grace
and dignity

so I leave with a wish
that he finds courage and
composure at his execution

having killed so many of
my people, pure and hybrid,

so different and yet
who knows how close
in what is felt inside.

She leaves the cell. We
ask no questions. What
hopes she has, what
reassurance she found
is hers alone. We
should not enquire.













FEEDBACK

FEEDBACK

“and so cold”
William Carlos Williams

just want to say
you wrecked
my night
my day

my week
my month, my year

my death
      my life

playing
like that
coaching like that

do you
not know?

is it not
amongst the so
many things

you do
not know?

PLAAS ROMAN (farm poem)

PLAAS ROMAN (farm poem)

crossing the farmyard
to my domicile

trod on something in the long grass
   perfectly camouflaged

looking
    for all the world

like a stick

     which
            of course it was

my penchant for attracting
disaster wrong this instance

not the ambush predator
viper with potent haemotoxic
venom we
both assumed it to be

nor
    Cape Cobra (here in
South Africa we have
              the prettiest cobra)
nor Boomslang, nor Rinkhals

nor that speed freak elapid of
supreme flowimg motion

olive-gray in colour
hero of
    Tarantino’s Kill Bill
but with
silky pitch-black mouth

and me
   child of 53, making me
in Chinese
terms
    a fellow of that brethren

slow and quiet until called upon
then red-hot writhing, razor
sharp wire

sign of the
            creature closest to the
Earth (as I am now) and
thus
    with such gravitas

noodle with
           nuclear chemistry, one
drop

    never instil

thought here on the farm
might
     get away from him

hide from the god of life-
energy where

  there is
      no much

                 life energy

everywhere I look

plants sacred
to you

and the way you crushed me,
destroyed me
        injected me with tragic

beginning to fear
     I might be sacred to you too

never to evade you
ever
     escape your clutches

as my last days run out
and I can
       no longer walk your wild

or love
     your women, the ones
you singled out

chose for me perfectly

dreaming of our resurrection
wondering what
you
      will tell me, what

you will ask me
man to god
       (schemed as a
dithyramb)

         about the shared pain and ecstasy torture and beauty

of this life

      (forever fall
                forever rise)

NEITHER

NEITHER

what happens
happens

look at this poem
it may go
one way
may go
another

I may take it this way
you may take it that

both of
these roads considerably
less-travelled

only chance of us ever meeting
will be on
    a road

neither of us picked

BLOCKS

BLOCKS

we had our bullding blocks out
the whole carpet
was covered in them

so much fun to be had
building castles; founding
empires

our imaginations
free-wheeling
about the
tiny world of
the living room

and then, in a rather peverse
surge of destructive mind-set
we entertained
the thought of planes
raining down destruction
our tiny
      populations crushed,
destroyed
bombed out
   of existence

no shelter bullt, or place
of refuge

     it simply being a matter
of available
bricks

          and then we heard
real bombs falling
exploding in sticks until

we took
   a direct hit             so
forgive us

      if we can neither explain
nor suggest
                 our guess
at a reason

for we are dead now, as
yet undeclared

ARCHIVE

ARCHIVE

pitched up at the University
in time
    for my lesson

but there
was no lesson
no lecturer
no classroom

no
University

just dust and smoke and,
in the distance
the burning
archives

but perhaps I misinterpreted this
perhaps I
got in wrong
      in solitary confinement
you made it sound
so reasonable

ark of the archive
archive of the covenant

with no
archive how will they know
how I was disappeared?

SILENT

SILENT I am in the library hunting for tales of darkness and light feasting on the silence some poems are silent this we must respect in a world of horror what can a poem possibly say? some things are terrible some just overblown too big to talk about in a thing called a poem I have worked my way through this book labyrinth found what I was targeting exactly what I was after wondering if the books of light in this library are protected by angels flashing in to defend humanity, promote safety and justice bomb dropped falling as I wonder whether a golden robe goes with the territory is the absolute sign of favour presence of the light

CA-CHING

CA -CHING!

 

I asked the I Ching

am I loved?

 

made

a full inquiry

 

so many moving lines

I fear

    every line moving

 

so many possibilities, dimensions,

levels of speculation

 

in the light of which

             impossible to come up

with a

  solid interpretation

 

except to notice

 

     that, like the wind, you

                            came

 

and are now gone