, , , ,


devour this ice cream in one slurp
before it is consumed by the Sun
towards whose heart it is headed
approximating light velocity

suck these ice cubes
to nothingness
before they meet the same fate
will give you a serious head chill
before you frazzle

I tear into my sundae like
I am a tyrannosaur and
the shops are closed
(Churches open) because
it is the prole rest day

word from the pulpit is
Armageddon is out, hurtling towards us
gathering up kinetic energy until
the mercury doth vaporize, steel
doth melt

we had love, were (a few times) great lovers
before it all went bitch
licked ices from both ends
that we might burn in the middle
when our mouths met

but now we
are Hell bound, dragging a world
less than reluctant with us

the headlines in the papers
bouncing with devilish puns
fiendish alliteration

tinder to all
that is wrong

not a hint of heavenly assonance
so chill in its vowel harmonies
absolutely cool breeze
(at this distance
from conflagration
pure chocolate and
vanilla, strawberry and lime

savour each spoonful
the taste quite sublime




, , , , , , , , , , ,


the rats
insist on putting on a pantomime
whilst the ship sinks

a shrew, meanwhile,
is testing the
rational limits of
political spin
in assuring us with
the promise of its
level best

to solve the
conundrum of
time reversal
talking the iceberg down
to the size
of a cube
in a vodka martini

but then
jump cut
back to the rats
who have themselves
jumped cut unfortunately
since by
logical mishap

the wrong
consumes have arrived:
not apt for
Mother Goose
but perfect fit
for Shakespeare’s Hamlet

not quite right for the kind of entertainment
we need so desperately as we drown



, , , , , ,


as we were arguing
the missiles dropped their
payloads from the sky

I sneered with irony, accused you
of being the writ-small embodiment
of this very nemesis
in the species

which you contested
until one of those warheads
hit you on the head

before we were
converted into energy
heat, radioactivity
and searing light

I noticed aforementioned
bomb had
your name of it
(rejoicing in that
glorious millisecond
that I appear quite vindicated
so obviously, without question
winning the argument)



, , , , , , ,


the stage is littered
with dead Teletubbies

rats exeunt left
leave the arena in
royal procession

on the words the
sweet Prince was uttering,
no one has anything to say
no one
can understand them

no Google translator capable
of translating
Shakespeare to gibberish

but do not fear
there is a Caliban in each of us
primed for survival

here: bite into this sea biscuit:
enough old hard tack around
(if you know
where to find it) to
sustain us

just pass me that blade
you were using on your leg to
help me saw it in half



you cannot see this poem
on account of the pollution

the light
can barely escape

and only
the gravity of the situation
with drag you in

there where matter is smashed
the laws of physics are upended
your conceptual
framework bent
beyond recognition

and though the Sun be blocked
by climate-change cloud-face

let me not
lack for
tradition or

whether ironic or no:
feel the compunction to
wish you a
perfect day



, , , , ,


asked myself
if it were possible

a love economy
abstracted myself
that I might
better contemplate

divide my brain
into two:
left side, right side
began to

whilst way back
two centuries
the Moselle river flowed
sluggish then as now
through town of
Trier, dialectic

that young Jew getting
his smart feet wet in class analysis
thinking ghosts as
vapors rise off the waters

winter in
the soul but
then always summer

what if summer
could be an

politics to be
made out of that ancient mythology

world without gulag
without poverty

bodies unbound, unbroken, free
of rope and disease

we sing our earthy folk songs
one eye on Heaven, dream
of eating ourselves sick in
full-blown carnival scene

tell ourselves as we march chanting
perhaps even whisper to our children

there is, will be, is
sure to be
a state or condition where

we are released from
all bondage

live lives quite worth living
bereft of dire need



, , , , ,


my poem
tapping at your window

at your window
my poem

asking you
to come out
and play

with me

but you are already
in full flight
co-pilot here to
your man of danger

where my
just memorable,
his sensational,
the scale measurable

the consummate love
that celebrities do

but even
as you cling

climbing, diving
ground-hugging supersonic, even
faster at high altitude

my words
leaking through the glass

your ear

but I am traveling too
could not
wait for
your attention

you so eager to listen, but
my poem
far away