TESLA
the light
transmigrates
was here
now there
st that speed
knows neither
time
nor distance
even
that wizard Nikola
Tesla
cannot
catch it, stop
it telexing itself
from point
to point
suffusing the darkness,
waving goodbye
at the moment
of arrival
keeping you guessing
beyond the possibility
of infinite circuitry
MOSTLY
“They come out at night. Mostly.” ALIENS (1986) (dir: James Cameron)
so quiet
almost peaceful
in space
a hydrogen bomb drops
fast as a feather
equally silent
here however
our parents together
gambollihg in the garden
innocent
unfallen
not even
a grazed knee
everything on course
ticking like an Swiss watch
ticking
also
somewhere down there
way beneath their feet
something in
the rock and stone
down below the earth of Eden
that nourishes everything
shedding heavy particles
yet
no need for caution, nothing
yet to worry about
and there
to one side
a much disgruntled, disfigured figure
recent transformation
put him in the arcana
rendered him archetypal
whose tale
could be more cautionary
whose loss
the stuff
of insanity
and yet the flicker of a smile
a flash, a spark
and with it
a vision
of annihilation
.
countdown close
ending begun
EYELINE
my eyes
slowly adjusting
to the darkness
yet in the same darkness
my mind going
billion percent Lovecraft
gone
in thirty seconds
imagining every
conceivable category
of inconceivably
ghoulish beings
and most
truly terrifying thing
of a writer
one who
lives and
dies
by imagination
no paper
no pen
not a scrap or
stub at all
UNDER SCRUTINY
will it all
bear scrutiny?
I have also
drooled over these
Michelin star hotels
and restaurants
hoping that they will survive
that you will not
summon me to
destroy
such
a golden circle of elegance
haute couture people
dining haute cuisine
too exquisite one feels
for them to ever to
be put
to my diabolical test
force them to answer
my ultimate question
subject them to such a
basic law of mass
and speed
turning the heat up
on their politics, empathy,
economic principles
a tad below that
of a million suns
WHERE FROM HERE
we lie together
when
we lay together
made love
it was
a moment of truth
intoxicated by desire
yet such
sharp clarity
we lie together
wondering secretly,
privately
where
do we go from here?
DEEP
escalator
went up
up
up
up
forward
reverse
it’s axiomatic
elevator went
down
down down down
skipping circles
of good
ploughing
through axes of evil
down through
every cellar, basement,
bunker
ever built
through the deepest
mine of all
on the
golden
Witwatersrand reef
deeper than a anything
that ever went
China Syndrome
deep and
deeper still
never to bottom out
WHEN MARCUS CRASSUS
when Marcus Crassus
died in battle
everybody wept
the grief
shook Rome
the whole
city consumed
by sadness
slaves being tortured
prisoners crucified
took time
out of their suffering
to make sure
they found time
to weep
gangs patrolling the Subura
to ensure there
would not
be a single
soul
failing to
feel heartbroken
for if the gods
could not fail to be
grief stricken
how not
mere mortals?
so tragic that one
so rich and powerfully
should be put
to death so aptly
suffer
so horribly
so wrongful a vengeance
so totally
beyond the pale
of social justice
COSMOLOGY
a magical alluring mystery
spectacle
almosr too far away
for light to travel
your dance of seven veils
alluding
to our source tempting
our return
.
and me in the back row
with much undersized telescope
longing for the front row
a window seat
somewhere close relatively
speaking
where at least I feel I
can reach out and touch
this routine so exactly
choreographed, yet primal
and chaotic
is thing you have wanted
me to witness
for billions
of yesrs
but the laws that say I am
a bit underaged to be
witnessing this
let alone understand it
tell you that
your moves are slowing
getting stretched out
breaking
dissolving
and this I can see
hear explained by
cosmic dude on
my cellphone (Cox,
Greene, Kaku, Hawking or Tyson)
time will come
when you have Medusaed
yourself
are iron cold and
a statute
and me, as
for me
long long before then
will have deserted the scene
me and my
world well
out of popcorn
this great gorgeous
cinema a thing
of the past (though
no future or past)
TEAPOT
below
everybody’s radar
a fabulous world
bunkering
at the bottom
of your
white rabbit hole
and
after a divinity of
fine tea in the
arms of such company
time to reset
boot up
swipe
delete any virus
inconvenient program
waiting for
the bus of old age
who on Earth is
going to believe your story
the jury out
on whether the bus has
been missed, is late,
can
be said to exist
that debate
still raging, if ever
so quietly,
the luxury of it all
every tea set fully furnished,
expertly laundered
no future as monolithic
on the horizon, on
any horizon, as that
presents us as star child
not wishing to moonshine you
Cheshire Cat or Caterpillar you
you my dear girl
captured in this selfie
under the hat you
borrowed from
that mad
fellow
nothing in your sharp mind
going to change the heavy
metals in
his system to
gold
who single-
handedly threw
tea pot into unknown
postal district
this saucer into whole
new big bang aggrendisment
lurking in
galaxy not up
to us
to speak about
DRIZZLE
drizzle
pizzle
puzzle
pustule
pestle
Manna
from Heaven
and Job
crying out over
the bodies
of his children
all bone and skin
and broken clockwork
knows
that all will be restored
all that is suffered
is there
to be redeemed
poems 2 die for