Thursday, December 10, 2015

infinite jest, or 'there is a plan'


 an open wardrobe.. pieces of time fly
fly past my eye,
she said
"f'off" and sighed

a water canon goes off
into a glass half empty. no no no.
 no no no

the best ideas
are attributed to gods
but gods don't merely
exist

our ephemeral
nuisance lives
buzzin into their eyes
 spoilt with creation

the inverse perfection
is no perfection
until in verse

it crushes us
like wasps
between leathery lips

Thursday, December 3, 2015

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the ant trails running discourses to the edge of the ocean
fabulous planes crash in millennial colours across wide deserts
the girl in the black jeans knocks the wineglasses spinning
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the goat herd leads the beards into the yellow stone temple
a new computer sucks air in an empty room calculating infinity
the truth is incompatible with the truth: a light-speed time bomb
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the bicycle is dragged from the river dressed with dark reeds
all through the city a fine mist of snow is falling on parked cars
an overture is recorded in the lineaments of her tired hands
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a curse is unrolling like a cloud over succulent stinging trees
the heat is rising in the refrigerator - but all this is passing
last night the poet floated high above a clear lake in a strange land
the poet always floats in dreams, as a balloon on a cut string, free to-
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