HUMONGOUS
human look
humongous
through
alien eyes
(forget any
cosmic romance
with sweet tentacled
creature)
the bodies we
born with
not
for light-
speed optimized
what spring and
bounce born with
gravity level-best to
be levelling
so here we be stuck
all can do
is wave as they pass
us
any cosmic, astral travellers
then
best write it off, crazy
to believe
when everything in
our Universe premised
on
plausible denial
GAZEBO
(the) gazebo
is a portal
can
whisk you away
transport to mainland,
ancient China
watch the Sengoku Jidai
run its course, take place
alter
the outcome if
you feel that way
and so no
war with Russia or
Pearl Harbor
no cities devastated
by nuclear fire
unless it is shipping things
across the galaxy at
faster than light speed
tickles
your fancy
like this insect-like, alien,
shapeshifting creature
its antennae so switched on
ready to receive
huge, biomechanical possibly,
perhaps even shape-shifting
pushing the boundaries
of what we
might conceive
here, outlandishly, to
communicate, negotiate,
wing
its way to our leader
dictate
surrender terms
or thrust us aeons ahead
as we crack the code
of its impossible technology
or stick you
with its stinger, run off
with genetic evidence
that others, no less curious
than our
so far limited species
might like to study
perhaps find
hard
to believe
FIRST STRIKE
aliens havs taken control
of Parow library
they are using their plasma
weapons to take out
all the poetry
classic novels and
books of philosophy
there were
not so many
but all are now gone
this alien high command
circling the northern suburbs
in their mothership
are openly
celebrating as
a titanic victory
the human race needs
to be even more unread
dull unimaginative
and stupid
to become the compliant
servants and slaves
the great
alien think tanks
are convinced we can be
LET ALONE MEET
wearing my shirt
totally Lovecraft coloured
black sarcophagus
in my backpack the book
that opens up secret passageways
me eyes
laser slice
stare down the sky provoking
extreme lightning
dark matter dark energy
anti matter
made of
the stuff
you would
rather
not think about
let alone meet
DEAD PERFECT
no one, nothing
has ever moved
across this dead planet
I feel we can safely concludd this
though more scrupulous
scientific analysis
might
say something different
and yet
here I am
in the picture
there is a world out there somewhere
in an expanding universe
dead perfecf match
for this one here
before us
now, of
which we speak
the planet
looking back at us
seeing, not seeing,
perhaps
even conceptualizing
there
being physics in
these rocks a serious mathematics
in the current uncertanties
regarding a history of life
and speculation about
what might well have
been a purple sky
before
something
may well have
absconded
with the atmosphere
poems 2 die for