



JUNGLE GYM
I ate my jungle oats
you are your jungle oats
you ate my jungle oats
I ate your jungle oats
we ate our own and
each other’s jungle oats
not at the watering hole
but in bed together
you telling me that aliens
came to this planet Janet
tens of thousands of
years ago
as is recorded on
scroll and parchment
to build the pyramids
and screw
our woman
the former with sonic resonance
and photon matter creation
technology
maybe, safe to say,
pretty much
the latter too
and you trying to tell
me that
Noah’s Ark was actually
a saucer-shaped vehicle
(like alien craft on the cover
of an
Amazing Stories 50s Sci-Fi
magazine)
nothing more lewd or leering
than one of those aliens
desperate for
the feeling of humanoid
tits and shit
and me making all sorts
of irreverent and disgusting
sexual puns
during the entirety of
her discourse
obviously not the kind of
civilized fore and interplay
that would lead
with neat evolutionary
procreative logic
to our own little
trans-linguistic
conjugation
and most
intimate and
nearest thing
to
cosmic encounter of
way more
than three-dimensional kind




EQUATION
energy
is mass
and space
and time
are
money
me
I wasted my
time
studying
philosophy
writing poetry
so can tell
your what’s-the-
matter
moment is
pure
postmodern
spiritual existential
ennui of life in a
post material age
nobody
offers a phosopher
a penny for
his
a shilling for
her thoughts
or to speak
the value or meaning
of anything these
days
just nowhere
for the human
mind to expand
and all
that wasted
storage space
BONEY
I apologize
for not having watched
your film yet
(hope it will
be as
good as Gladiator
in which you
played an
entirely
different character)
my supreme Leo commander!
let me kick this off directly
by telling you
how
much I love that hat
would
(if indeed I had one)
surrender
my Empire
for that hat
which to me seems so solar
to
proclaim you
as Helios himsrlf
on top of your head on entire
solar hemisphere
(rising,
setting)
of course, the hemisphere
below supplied
by the bottom
of your
now
my
gigantic head
Empire for your bicorne
hat
being
our fair trade
nothing could be nore
Napoleonic
be about continuaton
of your legacy
not even
ten ghousand
YouTube videos on
your rise
to power, sweet
Josephine
and the utter tactical
brilliance of
Austerlitz itself
than me
wearing that bicorne bonnet
en bataille
THIS THING
this thing, suffering,
never
thought about it really
when we were
together
before the fracture,
time of complete loss
yes that short time
of beauty
I do not remember
much about it now
why, how
it could not be sustained
thinking about the drive home
immediately after our
marriage
no reason to think
of suffering
suffering there lying
in wait somewhere
outside us
or, already primed, set
to destroy,
lodged within
SHADOW
I misremember you
still
in your shadow
anniversary
of your departure
in size and proportion
shadow
is giant
sometimes you cannot even
capture it on
old cinemascope screen
and you were giant too
when in wonder
first saw you
peering into my cradle
wondering
what you were thinking
who or what
you were
still wondering
what you
were
what
you are (immortal
philosophical question)
what you were thinking
all those years
shrouded in shadow
what
you were thinking.
I remember you.
Trying to forget
does not come easy at all.

TRANSPARENT
“Différance does not precede the elements of the opposition it makes possible; it is their mode of existence.” Christopher Watkin
don”t say
transparent
when best you can
aim for
ever hope to
achieve
is translucent
(thus ducking
quite neatly
the
thorny issue of truth)
but then there is context
and then there is history
whose meaning
is deferred until
you
write the thing
time lag
side step
every excuse for
spin, circumlocution, Derrida’s
Gitanes-smoking
deferral
of what if is
Oh you Cartesians, what could
be more opaque than
your
methodology of demons
heads spinning like tops
whipped by sticks
viciously, vicariously
what difference if the
fate is epic monotony
could your
metaphysic possibly make?
TICK TOCK
tik tok
stop the clock
bin what’s there
gotta stop
the new narrative
at
all costs
tik tok
anticlockwise
we got
all is
on schedule
need to
total shut up shop
those kids so misguided
will interpret
how they
will
hear
what they want
truth so disatrous, if it
spread to
entire credibility
carefully cultivated
fiction
of humanity
so tik tok
tik tok
don’t like what it’s speaking
need to
bomb scare
that ticking
take down
that clock

FIGURES
figures
were fashioned
no sooner so
than they produced
brutal beauty
an angular ballet across
a square battlefield
the mind stretched to its limit
to master
have complete power over
surrogate for war itself
and yet still the shock
and
sharp self-
recognition
in defeat
figures were fashioned
you could spend a lifetime
exploring, imagining
that entire
little universe that
accrues to them
AND CRAZED CHESS GRANDMASTERS
Nabokov, Nabokov,
there are
Lolitas in the room
and crazed
chess grand masters
who, to this very day,
gave never found themselves
in zugtwang
and
know every opening
backwards
but
the clocks are ready and
all will
commence
perhaps the greatest sequence
of sacrifices ever
to force mate
perhaps it would have been me
in an immortal game
who knows how many times
before
the move was there and
I failed to
see it
