NINE LIVES
to win
the Superbowl
we are going to
need every
good witch
in the land
of Oz
get Brock’s arm
to perform miracles
carving up the Chief’s defence
like they
a basket
of loaves
and fished
or the blessed Saint Patrick
otherwise known
as Mahomes
to twist his wrist
stub his toe
will be the sign to
show him
Kansas going bye-bye
he ain’t in Kansas no more
IN THEORY
words
words
words
put horizontally
put vertically
are what he tells the President
he is reading
and what is the difference
between a prince and
a pauper and
a prince and a
president
at the end of the day?
you
ask.me
Oh let me travel to
the end of my leash, reach
the end
of my tether
sojourn in Paris, lounge
on the left bank
become
eternal student
many a brilliant idea imported
along with appertifs
and expressos
as I chart my way
developing the system
to conquer
limitation, figure out
what is
different
a system so open and
yet subtle
it can pre-
determine every nuance
eveb as it crosses the page idly
as any other text
word word word
text
(nothing we believe ever
outside a text)
BLOCKS
we had our bullding blocks out
the whole carpet
was covered in them
so much fun to be had
building castles; founding
empires
our imaginations
free-wheeling
about the
tiny world of
the living room
and then, in a rather peverse
surge of destructive mind-set
we entertained
the thought of planes
raining down destruction
our tiny
populations crushed,
destroyed
bombed out
of existence
no shelter bullt, or place
of refuge
it simply being a matter
of available
bricks
and then we heard
real bombs falling
exploding in sticks until
we took
a direct hit so
forgive us
if we can neither explain
nor suggest
our guess
at a reason
for we are dead now, as
yet undeclared
SHOTS
Turing me if you must
test my
human sensitivities
scrupulously Voight-Kampff me
tell me
this poem is light dark
high low
pure
outflow of binary merely
everything on this page
is dictated by the code
thought I was calling shots
standing authorial, true-
voiced before you
but this is
stuff of fiction, cloth
of dreams
metaphor built upon
metaphor
until the world
itself is
metaphor built
upon digital solid ground
for as Barthes, the Paris boss of signs
will tell you
(tell you if indeed
her were alive)
the author died, his
death redemptive
as dead cyber writing being
trying to tell myself I thrive.
BEEB
here we are
with our reporters
and cameras
swinging into Gaza
behind an armoured thrust
lucky
to have all this protection
help us
get
our story
one of our group
is fixated on asymmetry
though this is a word
we would not choose
to use
on the BBC
ARCHIVE
pitched up at the University
in time
for my lesson
but there
was no lesson
no lecturer
no classroom
no
University
just dust and smoke and,
in the distance
the burning
archives
but perhaps I misinterpreted this
perhaps I
got in wrong
in solitary confinement
you made it sound
so reasonable
ark of the archive
archive of the covenant
with no
archive how will they know
how I was disappeared?
HOME
we spent all night
in my tiny room
on
the huge
farm
touching
loving
playing with
each other
retelling fairy tales
reciting
nursery rhymes
until
the cows would
come home
dawning upon us
the cows
would come home
the cows came home
home home home
SLIP
sorry
I was writing this poem
and my pen
slipped
the text
spilled
all over
the place
ruining our
time together
wrecking our date
feel I need
to underline, bold font,
how
regretful it all
is
how embarrassed I feel
took out my
pen to write these words
construct
an apology
and the damn pen as
pens do
went all Derrida on me
FIXING
“where I’m wrong, I’m right”
The Beatles: Fixing a Hole
let’s
see what
we got here
check if
there is a hole
if so
how to
fix it
if not
why not?
poem need
the right kind of holes
(where would
we be
without holes)
just jokin’
poem got to be
fun
poem got
to be serious
we had some
fun so
let’s go
serious
switch of a sudden
turn on dime
between
fun and serious
truth to power: break
in through the back
leave via
the front
do your dreadlock goldilock
thing
have your Gulliver
child’s play
turn it
all
upside
down
seems like you serious
but
can we be
sure to
be sure
that last line
gleams wickedly, such
a look in your eye
and eye need
the light
how else
delight?
bend those bars in
before out
your light coming in
your light
going out
see here: a VOICE
in with
a shout
SHADOW
in my previous life
I was a shadow
a millisecond after
the flash evaporated everything
fatboy, bigboy,
littleboy, bigfatmacboy
whatever
you called
it
and so
this time round
far
from that shore
forgive me
and my haiku mentality
where
I struggle with life
and consciousness
remembering only
my fear of the light
poems 2 die for