Our most defining moments are reducto ad absurdum:
painting gold on stars that no one else can choose for you.
Name-stating contracts, usurper, devil-whisperer,
twin figures on a cold rock-face, obscuring the white
‘Laughing stock, fool, traitor, mummer,’ they cried,
yet ‘dancing star,’ was roaring in their eyes.
This was past the point of warning:
this was a death rattle –
a baby-hall of thundering white lies.
She whispered me to practice the art of betraying the social order.
My art of betrayal to the social order,
she whispered me in secret, urging onwards my desire for betrayal (implicit) to the social order.
Everything I whispered was a message written in sand.
As our cities grew, the ocean’s breath failed, its waves fell tepid,
it rolled over in coma slumber and laid rest all thought of the
packs of predators roaming its shores.
A smile given so freely, yet so
full of self-conceit:
caring trust, self-abasement
Fun, caring, trusting, bonding,
trapping, withholding, facetious,
simulacrum, barring, jarring,
suns of cold
coiled up in the selfish
whispers of a child.
Her eyes were broken clocks unwinding,
she warned me with metalline smile.
The sky descended, varix stained:
bloodclot clouded heavens chundering
splashes of sunstroke.
Headline reads ‘nothing but the fire
lasts forever.’ Cities burn just as
simply in the modern age. Headline reads
‘do this forever in memory of me.’
Once the people are left with nothing,
only then will they let the fire return;
each new flame striving to be the
birth-star. Each spark, infinitesimal explosion
reaches out into the space of new horizons.
Stand in line for a promise of peace,
queue jumpers, dillying out details
of sanctimonious pact – blitzkrieg,
hunger and strategy: well paced
threat of looming invasion.
A consciousness receding; adaptation
to the hum of machines. Satiety.
Let me breathe just for now,
let me soak in the cold wind
disappear in the morning air
let me remember what it’s like to be alive.
What did we care for soft trees, jostling space?
Two bodies splayed out on a park bench,
spiced wisteria sunshine humming in eyes,
smiling on our faces,
summer was the unremarked season of love,
of sleepless nights spent longing in grace
for breezes that sent our seeds to sleep.
Beware, beware: your
face by day falls
the low murmur of