THERE IS A SAVAGERY
there is savagery
to emotional neglect
parental distance
pad this tiger’s jaws
these tigress claws
as much as
you can
would
ever want to
end of
the day
end
of your childhood
will
still kill you
THERE IS A SAVAGERY
there is savagery
to emotional neglect
parental distance
pad this tiger’s jaws
these tigress claws
as much as
you can
would
ever want to
end of
the day
end
of your childhood
will
still kill you
RIB
I came across Adam
in his fallen state
crying out
to God
demanding
that He return
that rib
He took
and that rib,
speaking of her,
we should now notice
how bereft of
hope she looks
fearing for that long
long line of forever daughters
doomed to hear
again and again
the self-pitying
accusatory dirge of
rib
deprivation
aimed at Heaven
by all in that neverending
line of Adam’s sons
JOINT PROJECT
my father
loved his meat
a piece of dead pig, sheep
or cow
for him
the most beautiful thing
in the Universe
these
the values he
strove to instil
no matter how much everything
became
disjointed
seems we didn’t quite
share his
philosophical appetite
19TH LETTER OF THE ALPHABET
the 19th letter
in the alphabet
squirmed, sauntered, slithered
sailed like a liner,
a Spanish galleon,
into the room
where
there is of course
an elephant
everyone is not
noticing, avoiding,
which
I am currently riding
ignoring all the hissing
from my late-coming
sinuous, sleek, slim
sensuous
serpentine friend
THEY
they were pretty sure
you were fixed
for all eternity
but I felt
in my bones
you would go
wandering again
your unsettled soul
foreved ramblimg
needing to
fiind the anchor
you could never
be
nor provide
the logic here
pretty crippling
and so I pray
our lives
never
again cross
unlike this time
no more
such a time
IN THE ROOM
there
is a snake in the room
telling me things
an Apollonian python
pickimg up vibrations
giving me feedback
across all dimensions
whilst there
stuck in
their chairs
the know everythings
pontificate, legislate, elaborate
somehow this
titanic python
of immortal proportions
Invisible to them
wholly unseen
YOU
I wrote
a poem
penned
a few lines
sent them
to you
Imagining
they might fly
liike an narrow
or a seabird migrating
South
battling the aircurrents
flap flap flapping
unstressed stressed
iambic rhythm
ONE HUNDRED PERCENT
we
are one hundred
percent proof of
space-time
curvature
we are that system of
geometry where
parallel lines
run parallel
and
yet they always meet
and so we saw
ourselves
heading
toeards each other from
opposite ends
of the galaxy
way way faster
than the speed of light
something to do
with sudden simultaneity
and memory
of our entanglement
STA R
could have dreamt
a reality for you
we could have dreamt
a reality
for each other
but non-event chirped
sick
and sanctimonius
shadow-
spouted
guff
from his stupid black book
that timing
was terrible nothing
was possible
and so
we lived our lives not
realizing we were
waiting for each
other
found each other
even as
hearing that
the Universe
now set
to repeat, geared
forever re-run
northerly and southerly
such
opposite winds
currents, tides
did
once tragically contend
now
melt
in each other’s arms
AM
am a machine
for producing paradoxes
within paradoxes
koan-type questions
such as
what is the afterlife
after
the afterlife?
what recursive equations
find themselves embedded
in the structure
of everything
here I am under a tree
but it is not a tree
with you
but it is not you
but a shape so glowing
pure with love
though
it has to be you
could well be anyone
anyhow anything
nothing
and every single thing