SQUIZZ AT K2

SQUIZZ AT K2

I am digging through
rock and concrete
searching
    for secret gospels

in the ruins of a bombed
out city
    who can say there is not
a pitcher buried deep
or just
beneath
    the surface

as it was in ’45
    under the sand of Egypt

six feet
tall filled to the brim
      with the voice of God?

searching hard around the farm
maybe through the mine dumps

beneath the Colosseum,
Acropolis or
      great temple of Mars
   
failing which
      we should explore
the death zone mountains;
Annapurna, Everest,
       or tip it over
on its side and take
a squizz at K2

LOVE DUST

LOVE DUST

came across
a speck of love
dust
    in the Universe

travelling at, near,
or beyond
the speed
of light

in slowed down
approaching Earth

like the alien
mother ship
in Independence Day

which became an issue
of global security
national concerm

world waiting with baited breath
praying it would
burn up
    in the Earth’s atmosphere

failing which
there is always the
nuclear option

deflect the trajectory
or vaporize entirely

for if that speck of love
should touch anything human

could go extreme viral
wreck our civilization
the one we have spent
decades
     building and
re-building

love bringing
the extinction
            of all we love

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.













FAR FROM IT

FAR FROM IT

far from it,
we did not
get rid
of them

as vicious and
insufferable
as they had become

we just let them
fade into nothing
embrace
    non-being

going nowhere
we simply allowed them
to reach
   that destination

perhaps ushering them
a little
    but it was for
their own good

genocide?
    no that is their
much contested term
and yet
habitual practice

such actions
          lie beyond us
this word
not in
our vocabulary

but see
     look here

admire
what we have done with
the planet
       how we have integrated
everything, biological
and technological
organic
   and machine

everything flourishing,
renewable and recyclable

this
    our mandate terrestrial
and cosmic
in equal aesthetic and
intellectual measure

ours
   is the new spirituality
to take
   across the galaxy

theirs a
     contempt for themselves,
the sacredness of being
and life
        of every living thing

QUICKLY

QUICKLY

read this poem quickly
we have not much time

an nasteroid/comet/meteorite
is going to
hit this Earth tonight

but even before which
tensions on the planet ensure
the button will
get pressed

failing which a killer virus
has obviously escaped

and then one or two
of the world’s
super
volcanos
is primed to blow
fill the Earth with pyroclastic flow
toxic dust
blot out the sky, the Sun
so, read
this poem
have some fun

best thing to do now
quite frankly

SAD TO THINK

SAD TO THINK

can’t put
my finger on it

something seems
off

the wind feels odd
the TV
    looks wrong

everyone I hear
feels that
the truth
    must be hidden
cannot be
uttered at
all costs

the plot
    has been lost
the record stuck

and those who
deny what we see with
our own
eyes

are believed

cannot put my
finger on it

seems like
the beginning of the end

we had
our run, had our time

self-destruct is
   now on
                     override

sad to think what
we might have become
    could have been

VICTORY

VICTORY

You were screening
a film about your victory

when news
of your defeat, your
complete defeat came

sudden consternation
in the projection box
reels were exchanged
and that
film replaced

by one so different,
one that dealt
with the death of hubris,
end of arrogance

and a way that slowly,
painfully
        the sins and crimes

might be
confessed before humanity;
some redemption take place.