ENDGAME
playing chess
whilst our liar leaders
think about war
at the summit
of their lives
you don’t have
to be Bobby Fischer to
win
a nuclear match
just a matter of economy
and who makes
the
signature
sacrifice
puts it all out
there
tempts into an atomic
no-holds
barred
pawn gambit
SUGAR MINERS
sugar miners
not for
minors
candy
finders
old joke going back
to the goldrush of 1849
the sweetness they
find down there
a seam so treaty
litigation and issues
of property rights
following
everywhere
but
I bought this face
from a robber baron
could not be
happier
at the game
history played
the dice loaded, the hired help
packing
alternate narrative notwithstanding
this is the way
it has always been
RATTLER
they kill
the ones that rattle
louder they rattle
more sure
their death
a fact
Oh, the rapturous ones,
you who do
murder all
these creatures
as soon as you say lord
I am your ambush preditor
whipping up
a juicy cocktail
I am determined to instill
and strike I will without warning
for you have sorted me
by selection
no doubt
you see
me as your devil
think
I could well just be
pure devil
this my utter evil nefarious plan
not thing
delivered unto yourself
STRIKE ONE
if the poem (this poem,
any poem,
freaks you, takes
you out
feel reassured
be happy that all
can call
it
collateral damage
for my part
condolence and
commiseration
that it
strikes you
out of the blue
as it is
meant to exactly
getting the retaliation
in early, serving
your revenge up
first
WIRING
sorry about the writing
must be
something in
the wiring
keeps
rejecting dead
reckoning
flying
off at a tangent
seeking out the truth
TEETH
thanks
for the interview
which should
have happened
years ago
might then
have meant something
for what am I to say to;
share with ye avatars of empty
puppets and
stooges
political appointees
what
do you know of the word
and true human sensibility
your brains burnt rotten
but such
photogenic teeth
VEHICLE
saw soldiers
dancing
beside their tanks
on top of
tanks
came
as a surprise to me
(won’t say
“shock”)
never before
made that
connection
ever saw tanks
as vehicles of love
GIANT
how
absolute om
evil is
survival oriented
one shiver, shake,
slight seriousness
in planetary wobble
and all darkness
leaches out
stuff
that ice worlds, dead
rock planets
are all made of
not to speak
of the huge death narcissism
of every
gas giant
APOLOGIA (POUR LE
KAMPFWAGEN)
sorry for
pissing
down
the barrel
of your tank
it is a beautiful tank,
let me
be the first
to admit it:
caterpillar tracks
reverse
forward gears
reactive
armour
(or do you
call it “armor”?)
so beautiful
so precise
I do
not, did not
wish to deride
just mar
its beauty
sully
it forever
least I can do
WEREN’T WE?
weren’t we
supposed to hold
up the mirror
to human nature
not let it fall
splinter, shatter
crash and burn, break
into a billion tiny
diamond-bright pieces
jagged shards, blood
soaked, blood
painted, bloody
never to be fixed
never
to be returned
never reclaimed
never restored
all those bits of light
dancing in the Sun grotesquely
hold
up the mirror
to human nature
who the fuck, nowhere
near his right mind
came up
with that idea
(go not pass go
leave the planet
sail steadfast, venture into the cosmos
cross
the galaxy
not, never
in a trillion lifetimes
nothing out there
to mirror what
we
might well be)
weren’t we?
poems 2 die for