OUT OF THE CORNER
OF MY LEFT EYE
I am such a soft
precious revolutionary
I smother demons
(my own included)
with an exquisite pillow
where
it might well
prove impossible
to integrate them
put them on paper
place them before
the great
arbiters of
civilized society
in no way
a scion or off-
spring of Comrade
Vladimir Mayakovsky
whom
I espy, out of
the corner of my left eye,
flinging a Louis XIV chair
through a crystal
clear
window of
The Winter Palace
EMPTY
Eden is empty
frozen over
or overgrown
no one comes
to clean up, ckear weeds,
pick up the garbage
here we
must consult with
the biologists, philosophers,
theologians
have coffee or a beer
with Neil deGrasse Tyson
to puzzle through the impact
of our human departure
on this now, to all
intents and purposes,
alien world
and whether, riff on
flower unseen meme,
the colours, the odours,
the sounds
very tactile feel of
the place
might exist
in our absence
forever persist
in their wondrous,
fabulous intensity
or has it
all just freeze-framed
forever capturing
the tragedy of
our great catastrophic moment
that coming to a consciousness
so acute we
no longer have hope
of the real.
NIBBLE
nibble
nibble
nibble
cit the wrong wire
armed the system
the count down
going
crazy
we both doomed
whatever explosion
between us
whatever
volcano
about to
erupt
magma
upon magma
superhot caldera
no hope for us now
started with a nibble
a single, fatal
total nibble
here is a desire
unleashed
devourimg
everything in its path
BULLET POINT
from the perspective
of the ordinary
the everyday
every flawed human
beaten down
shorn of
courage
everybody
is in on it,
Hell, it’s
the way of the
world
drop
in the ocean
but from
the perspective of
Truth
that stuff
in the Bible
that thing
in Plato
it looks
a bit
different
here every
lying journalist
should be
shot
or hanged
along with
every lying
politician
made to
pay back for
the death and
misery
their lies create
the cost of the rope
the price of the bullet
I myself am prepared to negotiate
CUT
a pixie cut
does not
make you
a pixie
being called
Rose does not
turn you
into a
rose
being cut
to the bone
does not make you
any less
a person
but your death
dear Juliet,,,
cut to
your body wrapped
around the body
of your Romeo
elevates you into
a realm where
tragedy elevates the world
beyond our
poor
ordinary being
.
THUS
cut and paste
cut and paste
photocopy the copy of the copy
how fuzzy and blurred
can the world
of your dream
you
new reality
actually become
no social political problem
that cannot be fixed
a jigsaw puzzle
where you
are a
piece whose
place is determined
from moment
of conception
to point
of delivery
you are product
and producer
construct and
consumer
endless cycles
within cycles
understand
accept
this is the picture
this is how
it captures
all
totalled and
accounted for
reshaped and
refigured, all
change
incidental
the system persists
persistence its meaning
we
are creatures of
stasis
continued continuity
there
is no
final, no beginning
no ultimate
this has it been
will it be
it has always been thus
ALTAR
I came to your altar
to worship
check out the place,
speak to your God
and ask him
a few things
but a homily I got
and a dubious one too,
condemning all
barbarians,
is what
I did receive
painting the picture
for me
the one I am supposed
to believe in so
much
I cannot but see
but the picture did
not show itself, I felt
deficient in vision
all the gold everywhere
blinding me
leaving me
struggling for balance
beginning to sympathize
with the thought
that it
would be
better
burnt down.
CLOCK THIS
I glare
across the board
at you
my need
for victory
my need for redemption
though not
necessarily
a queen
sacrifice
there is in chess
almost always
a really
good move
perhaps even
a best move, a
brilliant move
hiding behind it
submerged in the patterninf
and yet in plain view
clock ticking while
I rack my brain
to find
my moment
of mastery
the beauty of the pieces
finely carved, exquisitely
molded
expanding the brain
Star Child style
to
the edge of consciousness.
poems 2 die for