slaughter – poems 2 die for

STILL TO ENJOY

bliss
to blitz

that move too fast
for the human eye

proved
irresistible

so we mapped that
mythology across
a board of
squares
with twice
sixteen pieces

bliss, there like
excess, success, redress
piling on the
sibilants

recalculating the vectors
of numbers
six
and nine (dividend when
six
goes into nine,
nine goes into six)

these are the positions
figure out
the road
to victory

how
taking that poisoned pawn
leads to double development

crushing
annihilation, horns
closing in
tight encirclement

the Mongol army
leaving cities burning

women
still to enjoy

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?

DO SHEEP? do sheep dream of electric androids? last night I dreamt of the temple of the high abbatoir scouting out which I circumvented the butchery in the dark, dense forest perfect place (as opposed to a desert) for such slaughter to be hidden place where two and two make five or will do if they tell you it does