OVERKILL
“Eloquent, oracular;
A volcano heard afar.”
Shelley, The Masque of Anarchy
(poem on the Peterloo Massacre)
Ah, my beauties
here is poetry
where it has always been
first past the post
(postmodern, pissedmodern,
posttruth, postnuclear,
postapocalyptic, post-
whasoever)
play of language: you realize
of a sudden that deep
down in
your tin heart
you have to prevent it
look at the danger: exhibit A,
very drowned poet
his young pregnant wife
dreamt the future as monster
private parts monster
(as they all are)
scratching at her window
demanding
life, consciousness,
not exactly Turing tested but
she scared
the life out of us, this
virgin snake did cosmically,
with what
ex machina she
duly came up with
such overkill
need to nip it in the bud
radical danger of metaphor
surely
needs its own -dectomy
the threat of crucifixion
along every highway
and byway
resurrected again
something the billboards
really need, are crying out
for
real spectacle
behind them.
poems 2 die for 