LOVERS

Tags

poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, War, Wilfred Owen (strange meeting)

LOVERS

I met myself
in the battle

stranger perhaps
to have
met
as lovers

we had
both read that
beautiful
Wilfred Owen
poem

shot each other dead at
point-blank range

HEAD TO TOE

Tags

irony, poem, poetry

HEAD TO TOE

O the physics
of irony

you can lay it
on thick
and
nobody

will notice

none of those
covered in it
from head
to toe

they are
too smart
to know.

SOMETIMES

Tags

Difference, Evil, good, Heaven, Hell, poem, poetry

SOMETIMES

sometimes between Hell
and Heaven
it’s hard to distinguish
(so many
shades of difference)

was summoned to
Head Office to account
for my
peccadillos

listening to the usual: straight and
narrow, military discipline
ya-de-ya

creatures once were birds
without feathers
now curled up
by the central heating

slothfully servile, self-
Indulgent felines

whose alchemy would be
at this juncture kind
of fatal clue

spell out whether in fact (as I figured)
lesser saints, or minor evil dictators
either way somewhat
inconsequential in

the great
antagonism

TOY TSUNAMI

Tags

poem, poetry, satire

TOY TSUNAMI

there is a tsunami
on the outskirts of town

or so the toy-tabloids say
bringing all
the good toys
down

jamming their
clockwork, wobblying
them around
pulling out
their stuffing as
they argue, referendum,
bitch-slap
and fight
all through
the day and
all through
the night

those other toys, that ocean
of toys
on its way by
Christmas Day
going to swamp
and flood
swamp and flood

no little toy, good
little toy
Enid Blyton plod-British
toy ever
going to feel or
look
the same
remember its name

PRODIGAL

Tags

arrogance, macho, male, narcissism, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, power, pride, satire, sexual symbolism

man god said he was God
but that was not
the answer I was
looking for:
far from it

left me with
a broken pen, drained of ink,
trying somehow
to fill in the hole in my poem
hole in my being

vagina that in his infinite wisdom
he wished to, cutting out my heart,
leave for me

as he ascended to Heaven
tacky Elysium of his own limited creation

me, though, his most limited creation
though I have this poem and the
rampant Devil who
spoke and
still speaks

from these lines, through these bars,
outside the gate tightly shut and
locked for
the eternally prodigal

not quite out
of earshot
laughing diabolically but
quietly: yes my divine Other,
rattling your cage
as he laughs
and laughs
and
laughs
at you

in this insane, hopeless space
what more can he do?

AFFIDAVIT

it’s an
affidavit

it’s a
legal statement

it’s a watertight contract
like the ones that
they got (give
me a
break!) the
Nobel Prize for

it’s hermetically sealed
not a dotted line
the fine print is
not there but
it is
because, you see,
subliminal

it’s lemon-scented,
laminated,
on papyrus quality
Egyptian Thoth god paper
not that
scrappy shit upon
which is scrawled
the social contract

just one-ply, recycled
and when
I said scrawled in
reality I meant daubed