HARARI

HARARI

the grasses
of the meadows
shall feed us

no more
   savannah hunter-gatherer

no more
child of exodus
waiting impatiently upon
promised manna

spores
    from a far
           flung star

holding the germ of a
far-flung idea
                    fit

for
purpose

unless
   off the track did deviate
as to
     what
         we were, aee
made of

who
we are

IN CAREFUL HARVARD NOTATION

IN CAREFUL HARVARD NOTATION

let me
   (consults thesaurus)

shepherd you here
Instruct you
on this

guide you
gain your trust

Inform you how it is
we like to see ourselves reflected
there as we are
our mirrored reality

not a single syllable to interpose
refract, distort,
do the
   things words do

are doing here

but let me proffer
an almost alien, hyper-
linguistic perspective

since
   albeit we have our Grecian ideal

Achilles, Penthisilea,
inside, outside
their armour
     who can, dare, resist them?

but our biology lacks the nous
for this text of desire

on balance (and
off balance) fraught with
imperfections
    from my
outlandish P.O.V.
(point
     of view)

and our history
(as book) closing
before
   we even
get to the races

feet
  barely off the ground
(so say
    the seers, in careful
Harvard notation)

a

AS HARD AA YOU CAN

AS HARD AS YOU CAN

“I want you to hit me
as hard as you can”.
       Tyler Durden “Fight Club”

signed a contract
with the Devil
ratified
   in ink
signed in blood

this done gaily,
performed without reservation,
having entered into
so many contracts
with felines previously,
exacting dotted
line documents
selling
   my soul
to a cat

worst of all mammals
and yet how we
worship them

knew
   the Devil
would cheat me
           worse than any bank
or as
bad
   if not better

in terms of which
I did hereby agree
to kill
    countless fellow humans,
consent
   to destroy the world

or
stoop even lower
in terms of malign
sexual practices

you
     know how bad they be
measuring the evil
in terms
of the pleasure

and what,
    amongst these juicy crimes,
could
   be wrong with that?

SQUALL

SQUALL

oh these brutal
summer storms

full-on squalls
hot you full
on 360

whack you full frontal
stop you
dead
in your tracks

just a couple of hours ago
there you were
sweltering under
a cloudless sky

the Sun flash frying you
like you were getting
toasted
in a Bunsen burner

and now the rain hitting so hard
the hail big as golf balls
the weather
seeming so up
to shit

you wonder if the great powers
who should know
so much better
haven’t conspired or
contrived to
drop
the big one

every really big one
and all the others
no matter
how small
the size

summon a squall
enough
for us all

RAN OUT OF TIME

RAN OUT OF TIME

ran
out of time

for, as we well known,
time is sand
time is granules

time is not flow
it is
    by no means elastic
bent by
speed, bent by gravity

it is
   forever backdrop

and
   will carry on timing us
for all eternity

until you punch a hole
through the wall
to other
dimensions

let it all
flood in, all
that is within

blessed to find
the aperture created
by your dirty great
fusion bomb

ABOUT TIME

ABOUT TIME

spoke to the clock, my
wristwatch,
     a nuclear count
down
about time

they all gave me
different answers

which I took
to be proof of the pudding
that calls
      itself relativity

your and my time zones
so out
    of synch

the words stuttering, splutt-
ering across the page
begging
    for flow
                      flow to go
                    (about
time I say)