
SOFT TOYS



DENIAL
you have turned
denial
into a fine art
and what
a self- portrait
it is painting!
one whose veneer,
we do see through
that history
will record, pass
down through
the generations
in its true, raw
hideously distorted,
criminal, culpable
least human of forms
OFF THE SCALE
the Sun
beamed through my window
only to
take issue with me
scorch the files
on my computer
leaving me desperate
to get a handle on
electromagnetism
so much fire out there
in here
as chatbot and I
argue the toss
over philosopher
Catherine Malabou
and other
anarchist thinkers
wondering about
the Sun’s role
in authority, Apollonian
regal power
and how that
might avail itself
to tyranny
especially the kind
with solar ring of confidence
branded by beaming smile

CHILI FRIES
went to the drive
through at
the fast food
outlet
came away
with a couple of
presidential candidates
and a load
of chili fries
the candidates
were not
up to much
looked nothing
like as advertised
but the fries were
piquant
and were not
crawling
with grotesque lies

THANKS
thanks for protecting me
against evils known and
unknown
possible abd impossible
real
and imagined
and even
imagined-imagined
thank you for protecting me
from my self, all my
avatars and handles
thanks thanks thanks thanks
thanks
but no thanks
I’m too useless, uneducated, over-educated, uninformed,
misinformed, disinformed,
to know
anything anyway
do what i am
supposed
do what
is required
follow the plan
execute nicely and neatly
alomg the dotted line
tick my tock tick
the right box
be the perfecr customary
idiot you can package
in brown paper
send off to
war (just saying, just
saying!)
prime human material
ready to be exploited
smothered
in your love
suffocated
with affection
and now technology
world of
science fiction horror
alien
event horizon
thanks
but no thanks
thank you for protecting me
from it
must say this
demonic technology
was only
a pleasure, a joy
in this shit life you
do manufacture
milliobs of us
zillions of us
having fun, being
creatuve
feeling the same way
not feeling all
that mind control, becoming
other, changing shape
changing form
as our world turned pink
and then red
and then,
as that poison did its work,
complete Chinese
Communist Party
wonder what
we can do
now its gone, Devil
loving hands
idle
need a new vehicle to
go same-same to
ridicule this nonsense
throw
your democracy
back at you
mock, scoff, laugh, sing,
dance, ridicule
tell a little
needle sharp truth
to ridiculous power
STALWART
one day
not upon a time
the plants
elected
to row straight
electrifying with joy
stalwarts everywhere
every
treacle-thick politico
in
wotlds known
and worlds
unkown
fairy tale
and the political
racing
to conclusion
running in parallel
Oh happy day
exclusion of the middle
extermination
of the extremities:
it’s so
axiomatic, lowest-
common-denominator
raised to the heavens
square
root of zero
dutifully delivered
and in the woods so
much smoke
the trees so
covered in soot you
cannot see the leaves
but
Pan’s man, fabulous
Guillermo has
set a fantastic trap
they are
bound
to fall into
surrounded by thorn bushes
in the light of their shadow
you could not
do anything to look
more enchanted
surpass the mystery
conjuring up
a string of images
burrowimg in
wormknv deeo
teaching us how
to align, accept
the imperfect, rough
and smmoth
how to accept what is
for what it is
become part of
the picture
native to this place
OVID IN EXILE
in the Senate
on the Forum
they are not talking about it
no one is talking about it
Ovid
is in exile
the young Emperor
Augustus, formerly Octavian,
friend to the poets, patron of the arts
has blotted his copybook,
sent Ovid
into exile
no headlines, not a
scrap of graffiti
to record this event
too much truly momentous
on the horizon
to let this
sublime moral moment
undercut, let alone
overshadow
the great transformation
civil war over
the Caesar legacy entrenched
for who knows how long,
even the most conservative guess
will kick off with
a century or two, a good
few centuries
an Empire has been born
and Ovid missed its birth
for Ovid
is out of town
and, to be honest, who
really cares,
gives a damn about the impact
of this on his poetry
lately become
what was promised, always
promised
as the statues go up
to enshrine the new image
Ovid is in exile
and Rome and its fictions
transformed as expected
continue to be