CHUCKY

CHUCKY Hello Chucky ever wondered what will be uncovered, or should I say, be thrown up, when the ice melts tapping out these letters in my missive to you I think of myself as akin to an ancient Sumerian scribe some tablets in scrawl similar to my own freed from the icy prison cause of wonder and derision a text so mythological in its truth, connecting each of us to our true alien other about to be uncovered about to find its strangest mirror in the Universe in all this world.

THE WORD

THE WORD the scholars are wedded to the death of the author and friend Roland and friend Michel are clear that the word will flow where it wants to go will speak fof itself but you poets under bombardment either casualties or still survivors your words are gated, fenced in have no means of escape, nowhere to go but however softly whispered somehow become targets sought out for destruction, best censorship that can be what is it about these words small words soft words that seem so powerful inspire such hatred and such fear?

TUMBLE

TUMBLE I saw you take a tumble fall off the stairway to heaven that great guitar riff playing in the background and so you fell plunged further hit harder than him hurled headlong in that poem by Milton the whole of humanity screamed at your fate demanded you be saved but you did not, could not budge your crimes, though spin-doctored were insanely terrible.

WITH EURIPIDES

WITH EURIPIDES it’s a strange theatre we are watching one where the actors leap off the stage slaughter the audience kill every single one of us I am sure neither the Elizabethans nor the Greek tragedians foresaw this development this total identification of player with character in this strange new brand of history play

TURING TEST

TURING TEST see you posing as trying to be pretending to be purporting to be an ntellectual this you somehow cannot be obviously in human terms I would stoop to the political correctness to label you: cerebrally challenged but if your intelligence just so happen to be artificial I would inquire whether something in your hardwire might not have been substandard perhaps gone radically wrong all your chips jammed up too much sickly slimy spin saturating the silicon innards . making your tech feel stolid steampunk, the crowning achievement of a now distant century

RED LINE

RED LINE red line green line yellow line every flavour of line labyrinth which is that you need to lose your way in this ancient place and this is forgetting all about biblical brown and regal purple one being sterile the other being sacred the stars in Heaven totally incompetent here by way of guidance cannot tell you whatever or, for that matter, any which is which