SUREFIRE

Ah, yes,
social Darwinism
be your inclination
pitbull terriers —
      they
are your thing;

but would you pit, against
a tank, this,
or some other poem

without ceramic armour,
without armour-piercing
depleted uranium shell?

For all
       poem got going for it
is knowledge of shadow, and
pulse of humanity

and that is
sure-fire defeat, on
hiding to nothing,
as a Nobel Laureate does suggest
himself suggest

Oh, if only tanks could be
stopped in their tracks
by bloke
     with shopping bang

barrels get so stuffed with
gorgeous flowers things
might
       misfire; shells
and bullets simply melt

in the face of all
         that sweetness and light
(and
     metaphor, let
us not forget)
the antennae
   of the species
       wrote on paper, in clay,
on the digital universe

who dare order?
         what dare fire?

but then, who has ever
really talked to the mind of a tank?
               


LOST

LOST

all quiet
on the poetry front

bards on both sides
scrying down telescopic sights
in the crosshairs
here a sonnet, there
an ode
scribbled rap lyric
way before its time

let us not forget
hands and fingers that
could not be more creative
traversing self-
loading wespons that fire
ten to
twenty rounds per second

whole volumes complete oeuvres up in thin air
biting
the dust (death by
industrial warfare such
a monstrous cliche)

not much space here
for cross-
pollination, seminal
influence, collusion

even less
hope for free

translation (whole
generation
of the not-yet-
lived-yet
lost)