ABOUT YOU

Tags

character, fourth wall, metafiction, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, satire, writing

ABOUT YOU

your world
is not
a world

it is an
unstitched
tapestry

your life
is not
a life

it’s a cheap
allegory

and you
a character we
see walking by

there at best
to distract the eye

no one to ask
questions of
or about you

OUT THE WINDOW

Tags

journalism, philosophical, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, satire, simulation, The Matrix, Truth, writing

OUT THE WINDOW
“You are a slave, Neo”.

saw you
take pride of
place
commenting, pontificating
trying to
connect
what happening in the polls
with what you
see
on the television
in
the television

cola and the blue pills
going down

the words out your mouth
horribly inadequate
blue-
pill betrayal in
favour of the simulation’s
simulation’s
flavour
of
the month

and there goes
journalism
for a
ball
of chalk

and there goes
ontology — out the window

VAR

Tags

football, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, post-truth, postmodern, satire, Truth, VAR

VAR
VAR

sweet beautiful VAR
solving all
problems
answering
all questions

absolute accuracy
you can measure
with a
micrometer

the perfect truth
we have always
needed for
the game

useless for
politics however,
for where
would we
be
without the great lie?

JINATOWN

Tags

poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, satire

JINATOWN

there is a hypermarket
inside the prison

inside the maximum
security political prison

you wouldn’t think
they would do
enough trade, anything
like enough
business

but the inmates
are forced to buy

RIDER (ON AND OFF THE STORM)

Tags

identity, metapoetic, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, wordplay, writing

RIDER (ON AND
OFF THE STORM)
“Like a dog without a bone”
The Doors

I wrote
right through
the night

and deep
into the morning

rode my Muse
hard (when
I could
get hard)

for a few unfinished
scraps of poetry
and half
a page of prose

like
getting blood
from a stone
and diamonds,
engine oil
and tooth paste

if my pen
had feelings
it would
feel
so crippled sore.

every poem
a disappointment
not one
ever would
make the grade

were it
not for
the grace of
irony

me and
my Muse
both fictions

as you
are
in this place

with
or without
your bone

SOFT RETURN

Tags

poem, poetry, postmodern, Twist in the tail, writing

SOFT RETURN

I forgot myself
writing

became
too immersed

was glad, though,
to return
to the world

and find
it almost the same
as I remembered

SO MUCH

Tags

death, fake, Narrative, poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, postmodern, satire, Story, Thanatos

SO MUCH

and the popcorn
flavour of the month
is
salted
nihilism

so strong the
death drive right now

so much to break
(faux art and
sculpture
to
create)

so much to
dull and dumb down
desiccate

and yes, eventually,
so much to kill

SPIDER

Tags

meaning, memory, Nonlinear, pattern, poem, poetry, postmodern, the past, writing

SPIDER

the past
spidering around in my head

and me looking
to join the dots
establish connections

live in a linear world
of causality again

a world where if I touch you
there is impact, impression

something in your brain
that tells you I have
fallen into your web

for worse
than
worse
(or
almost
better)

depends on
the paradigm

line it
follows

trajectory
it offers

TRINITY

Tags

poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, political slogans, postmodern, satire, Shakespeare, writing

TRINITY

down to three
that’s what I’m reduced to

so I can’t go
MAKE POETRY GREAT
AGAIN

but would be OK
with
GET POETRY
DONE

four, five words
getting a bit
uncomfortably
close
to Shakespeare

HERE’S A LITTLE

Tags

poem, poem poetry political moral, poetry, post-truth, postmodern, poststructuralist, Truth, wordplay, writing

HERE’S A LITTLE

here’s a little inconspicuous truth
speed-read it quickly, park
it by the kerb

skim, elude what they
said about poetry in
all their apologies, those
buffoon Romantics

thought their
softly measured words
would change the world

and now, philosophically circumspect
to the letter
we no longer talk, think
about truth
since syllables do
beg to
differ

or so those mystics of the sign profess
who post-moderned us
in every
relative category

so candle, torch, flame or fire
all defunct now, no longer inspire

conspicuous by
their absence, no
space here for
defiance

a match though, which you
could just as well ignite or
break and fashion
into small stick man

your choice (as voice
runs dry and poem ends)

of image
to define