simulation – poems 2 die for

TRIPOS

IF ONLY (LIFE WERE A TAD
MORE POSTMODERN)

They put the poet on reality television.

I did not get
to see the programme;
analyse the working
out of that proposition.

what was done
in the shower.

Caught on CCTV
for all eternity.

But I think I can hazard
a guess
how it pans out
as poetic expression:

the poet
dies (of course)
as a figure
of tragic exclusion

and the poem, given
space and time,
gets over its grief

rides out into the sunset
with a sestina side-saddle

and everyone, cast
and crew,
all set to
live their lives not
stoically but
much happily ever after

figure
they might need
a script
one where some
budding your therapist
pays off
the mortgage
attending to each psyche
with radical
depression therapy.

his fingers faltered
that one
writing the script

and so best sibling
stepped into
replace him

but that one
not
weaned
the same

was of outlook
whole different genre

and so the dream
disappeared, we
became awake

congratulated ourselves
on
the end
of the fiction, red
pill reality

but it was
embedded level
of dream
and
move into nightmare

LIKE IT

I like it when
even
in full flow
(the joy
of flow)
you catch exactly
how your
mind works
how it all works

have your
self-reflexive
meta moment

finish the poem
with its special twist

and the Universe
(whether it is
real or
simulation)
smiles and
welcomes you
to postmodernity.

Put down
your candy crush game
(would so
like your candy
to crush)

but first a word from
our advertisers

if you went professional
option you would get
premier service and not have

to worry about anything

meanwhile in the simulation
that is the poem
we are either particles
or waves or
both or neither

so let me crush your candy
whatsover

catch you me
cheating on the two
slit experiment

by the time the last line enjambs

many many alternate universes
(eat your heart out
Michelle Yeoh)

up and running, teeming
with our joint energies

saw you reading
my poem

in a Video game
and there I was
writing this poem
as part
of that narrative

an Escher etching hanging
on the wall
windows
mirror
smoke dolls and
boxes

looked around but failed
to see anyone writing
about to
reboot me

so I just
drove to the ocean

to admire the artwork
the artwork there almost
beyond belief