APPLE ME

Apple me
your raw red love
or that leafy
green in hue

i will read them
both, respect them
as equally true

well, perhaps not
respect them (takes
a
bite

falling into
deliciousness).

THE SUN AND ITS USURPERS

let the Sun write a journal
of how we (like the other planets)
show our face
and then our arse in turn

the Sun will
tell it like it is
no human geopolitical bias
in its daily rendition
just equal contempt
for its children
not so much
the other animals
warming alongside it

but for us, former worshippers and
devotees cretinous
long abusing as symbol and
trying every trick
in the book
to usurp its power

VICTIMS

when I saw all my
bad cards even
worse since
reversed

I thought about tipping
the world upside down
redrawing the map
in lurid colours

except that both angel
and devil (in the pack) told
me it had happened already
and forces were at
work sublimely bad
for all those their parents
had turned out victims

GANYMEDE

GANYMEDE
“and Jupiter
aligns with Mars”

the wind blows husks of
what we were
across ground as dry
as dead as Mars

no rain falls
but
powerful currents are
in the air

taking us
somewhere

we fail
to believe
(not yet
having
taken seed)

NO KIND OF FONT

I cannot even
spell “teleological”

disillusionment
is written on the face
of every card that they deal

the coins I count: here
no need for an abacus

my words
in no kind of font
that has sumptuous,
universal appeal.

AYAHUASCA

SUBTRACTION

two into
one

and I am
the dividend

yet sum
of all their parts

and yet
why have I
always felt
that viewed from
an acute
angle

it was
really all
subtraction?

VAMPYR

if I were vampyr
I would have impacted molars

werewolf
then perhaps
mange and problem
canine hair

zombie is
probably my forte

by body a
bloody
Meccano set

THE ONTOGENESIS OF PELE AND MARADONA

after we
were red-carded
from Eden

and on that long trail
of work and woe

snake it was who
approached us
(perfidiously strategic
creature),

said (in
syllables of four and
three and
five and
two)
“let me
tell you about
the beautiful game”

ON HOME GROUND

the scenery
was imported

actors, homegrown

words from the street or
court, dramatically charged
and elevated

that the groundlings might
laugh and sing
missing (sadly, the
wry bard thought to
himself) the
cadence of history, arcane
meandering in and
out of sharpest truth
to power