NO STRINGS ATTACHED

since Lennon sang the Walrus
someone has been
pulling the
strings
(not plucking, not
strumming) has
drummed us
into where
we are
now

nowhere men in
nowhere land
our kaleidoscope eyes
looking back at us
from inside
the TV

I SWALLOWED A STAR

I swallowed
a star
and then another one

people were stunned
they phoned Stephen Hawking to
tell him about the singularity

but I just
kept swallowing

threatening
to make the history of
time even
briefer than what
Stephen was
imagining.

OTHER INK

The priestly scribes
(as the Senator said)
editing and annotating
until the
cows come home
(the cowherds and
shepherds carrying
very long spears)

but at night
as I their descendant can only think
they did their pens
into other ink.

FROM PAGE TO PAGE

he bought
the book
on being
human

so beautiful
so
terrible;
the truth

shifting
from
page to page

SO UNFAITHFUL

I have been
so unfaithful
to poetry

have dabbled in narrative
had one-
night stands with
novel after novel

(no marriage
there
of true minds)

worse still, I have ventured
abortively like
that whoremaster Shakespeare
upon the stage

tried to
write lines of beauty
that would give orange sellers a living.

STRANGE THIS

I break apart

the very moment
it all comes together

strange this

the paradox
of bliss

at the quantum level

WITTGENSTEIN’S ISLAND

Wittgenstein set
sail for an island

not a magical island, of
Prospero poetry
but a drab, gray winter
space

island of ordinary philosophy
that he would come
to diagnose, treat
find the remedy
for all its
juridical woes
blues
of its Empire

and all our issues
come down to the rules
of the game, or
host of games, games
within games
Chinese boxing to infinity

and every level, layer
not what it seems

yet perfectly logical
in all it sets out to be

Stormy Weather sweeping in
will those words
find their clarity
resolve all
differences in inflection,
infractions of meaning

as war does, must do
to assert
lost certainty.

Wittgenstein
setting out
for his island

may
well make his mark, then
never return.

OR NOT

I am evil
I am
saint

Shogun I am
and…ant

or rather was
in past lives though
I can no
longer remember

my mind an erased tape.
Or not.

WITH CAUTION

my psychologist
cautioned me

against zig-zag slaloming
my way through life
bumping noses with
reality

acting the pretense
of zero gravity

PARADIGM

help me
out
my
paradigm

draw ladders
cut doors

see if
could be
snake
swallowed me

I love
escape

but fear
surrender

dissolving (as I write)
into something
bigger than me

all I can be