HARDON
got a hardon
hardon
of power
(because)
can bomb
anybody
am free
at
to bomb
everyone
can rewrite
your history, burn
your first draft
dig
down
suck
out
make a ton
of boodle
from these rich
resources
which you
have no
right
to have
who said
you could have?
so weak and meek
and painfully pathetic
how are
you going to stop me?
if I take
what I want
what
the law
says
is mine
my sacred, inviolable
legal right
enshrined in righteous
universal law
SPRING CLEAN
wish I was young enough
and close enough geographically
to join you in
your protest encampment
a swatch of colour, a carnival
vibe, foregrounded against
the grey architectural
ersatz imitation of things
Athenian that marks
your alma mater’s
mode of academic being
the joy of community,
diversity
and alternate, far more
utopian
student perspectives
is not a thing to be tolerated
by a militaristic, utterly confused
and confounded, imperialistic regime
you just so happen
to call home
you are subjecting to a fantastic
targeted spring cleaning
throwing out the old
that you do not need
that all
too painfully
does not fit in
SOLDIERS
had a box
of toy
soldiers
all red
took them
into and lost
them in
the South African
bush
all (presumed) dead
they fought across
India, America, China,
the whole
of Africa
in Europe too
but my little men
got lost
in this bush
and their flag,
it disappeared too
LINE
you drew a line
said this is
the law, the rule,
the commandment,
the ordinance,
the regulation
suddenly
no sooner had
you signed off
than the line curved
bent multiplied
wriggled all
over
the page
my page
not yours;
on your still a single line
plain as day
cutting across the page
East to West
right to
left
dividing everything
North South
into two
unequal
hemispheres
you drew a line
for all time
AT ROME
they look back
longingly at Rome
whose triremes ruled
the Mediterranean
whose legions kept
control over
much of the
known world
whose slaves rebelled
and were crucified
along the entire
length
of the Appian Way
by the monstrously
rich General, Marcus Crassus
who would come to
be captured by the Parthians
and fed molten gold
A CLUEDO (HAVEN’T GOT)
deduced it in no
time
saw it clearly it was
either Plum that went
shapeshifter
eliding, gliding
between
the kitchen (pots
still greasy)
and the games room
turning up at the table
through
the fourth wall
or could be
Mustard, that die-
hard Imperialist with the
old Western front Vickers
water
-cooled machine gun
defending the pantry against
whatever
latest horde of savages
took out Ms Scarlett and
Ms White
ebony and ivory in
their delightful negligees
wandering aimless into
his line of sight
in persuance of
their tryst
or Green could have done it
C of E but some old Catholicism
at root there
adding a twist of hemlock
to that holy wine
(cardinal
not working out, we’ll
smoke that
one out
bring in another)
or someone in the garage
with rolls royce style
handy wrench
call murder murder
a spade a spade
a wrench a bloody brain-
fragment spattered wrench
and me
with my candle card yet again
with
such bad eyesight
cannot make out a thing
poems 2 die for