WELCOME
the beauty
of the poem
all this poetry
is that
juxtaposed
to everything
it is
a complete lie
but by
the time
you reach
the last line
it most
certainly
won’t be
but if it is
still is
seduced by
its magic, totally
convinced, absolutely
on board
you certainly won’t see it
FAIR CHANCE
thanks for agreeing
to take the test
just
answer the questions
talk naturally
we are not trying
to trap you
do not
desire
to catch
you out
want to give you
every opportunity
to express
your humanity
alternatively
process the data you
require to
convince us
you are
just like us, no
difference
to speak of
fair chance
to fool us all
WELL, I’M THE ONLY ONE HERE
move along
nothing iconic
to see
here
no mind-bending moment
of Bickle improvisation
no need
to watch
bug-
eyed
start
to understand
what it means
to imagine yourself
saviour
go full vigilante
with a .44 magnum
and array of
backup guns
street cleansing
ethnic cleansing
no huge leap
of the imagination
to imagine you
sprout wings, twin
jet thrusters
targeting and
guidance systems
a battery of
air to ground ordinance
to sort
every problem out
CHOSEN PEOPLE
you were supposed
to teach us the truth
bring us closer to God
did you
perhaps forget;
have greater priorities
act as an example
lead children
along the path
of righteousness
not carpet bomb them
target their classroom
blast them into
shattered fragments
bits
everywhere
meant to lead
towards the light
not steal and
kill to survive
live
at others’ expense
burn your way
to supremacy
brutally self-
convinced
lighting your way
with the utter
worst of cleansing fire
TANGO
because thus
therefore
do it yourself syllogism
waiting for you
to inflict it
upon the world
causal explanation
veering into justification
passing Go
getting out of jail free
it takes
two to tango, three to
fling themselves into
one monstrous
menage
and here, by pure coincidence,
we have a syllogism
meant to bend
the world into its argument
convince us all
turn
us around
however fucked up the premises,
skewed the entire process
leading to,
bleeding into
tango
mango
no
fandango
words spilling out
both sides of your mouth
BLESSINGS
I am sitting on the ground
under this tree
counting my blessings,
rolling the dice,
writing to you
out there
just
out of the frame
people getting stoned
being tortured, bombarded,
bombed
all for democracy
is a good policy
to give them all
a good life
key part of the plan
and for your right
and duty
virtue
of your
position of
power
to deceive and deride,
tell us lie
after lie
insult our intelligence
as reality
cracks, the fabric
tears
the tapestry we were
living for now
reduced to
an
oil soaked sliver
a blood stained shred
upon
which once
a history of hope, table
of blessing
THOSE LITTLE GIRLS
let us not
be too hasty
to condemn
let us not
rush to conclusions
little girls now
all of them I do
believe under
the age of ten
but give them
another ten, twenty years
who knows, who can forsee,
what they might not
grow up as,
horribly change into
who can show me
their note books,
their sjetch pads
assure me
there everything is
as the weepy weak press
are telling us
pictures of Mom and Dad
the sun, the tree, a house,
a swing, a cat
themselves
in their best dress
little poems and prayers
celebrating life
and love
like normal little girls
our Western girls
and not, as I am more
inclined to believe,
curses and tirades
calls for
a world full
of destruction
and death
drawings of drones, pictures
of missiles raining down
vengeance on
bad bad cities
ballistic rockets shooting
up into space
with (drawn in red
red
blood red crayon)
blood red noses
and fiery tales
who
can dispute this
deny
this possibility?
the evidence
disappeared
PRICE TO PAY
you need to
double down on your
best work
your precious insanity
order now for your
precise spot Heaven
regardless of Sin
irrespective of morality
help the angels out
witg a concerted push
in the right direction
thermonuclear weapon
without which
no Armaggedon
war of wars
death of the planet
supreme annihilation
book your spot to
the ultimate spectacle
of the death
of mankind
untold suffering
the trade off
for this
select salvation
sanctioned upon highest
fair price to pay
COMMON GROUND
there we were
two probabilies
failing our audition
no common ground
between your
my
intuitions
at that momemt
of moments when
our very existence
all
in the balancep
the most febrile
of entanglements
no
clarity between us
of what could
have,
been our
reality
just shadows and whispers
and echoes
no one recalls or remembers
or cares any more
IN SHADOW
Ah philosophy
that
search for
light
certainty
written
in shadow.
poems 2 die for