The Confines

It is
a glamour, this
being trapped 
inside without
the sensing of
an outer shell.

Im-
measurable.
Direction-
less.

Who cast the — who
cares? It’s where
you find yourself.

*

Although told 
otherwise
there are 
ways out. It’s 
just that 
finding them requires 
a knowledge of the 
arcane that is 
rarely found.

*

& in
addition needs 
an essential ability 
to mix & 
match the elementals, 
to pick the ones 
with most efficacy, to 
point them in 
the right direction.
 
& still 
the element 
of chance has 
final say. 

*

Too many
necessary things 
you can’t control.

*
 
Cartesian co-
ordinates, the 

oestrus cycle 
of monotremes, 

the light denying 
pictographs the time 

to form in 
distant galaxies. 

*

So why not trust 
entirely to luck, make 
do with what you’ve 
got or what comes 
easily to hand? 

The roads
are full of debris.

*

Each piece 
contains 
a measure of 
sympathetic magic.  

Marsupial bones, the 
coloured earth beside 
the bitumen, the flowers 
that are growing there. 

*

Include the artificial. 

Shredded rubber 
broken glass
a snapped aerial

a piece of mirror 
in which the past 
reflects the future.

*

All have to do 
with traveling.

Put together 
they might 
provide a path 
to get you 

out of here.

*

Trust in them
anyway. It’s what
maps are for.

From the Pound Cantos: CENTO XXVIII

Poor old Homer, blind, blind.
A patron of the arts, of poetry, 
& of a fine discernment. All 
decked in green, with sleeves 
of yellow silk, saffron sand-
al so petals the narrow foot. 
Eyes of Picasso. Eye-glitter 
out of black air. A titter of 

sound about him, always. 
Here stripped, here made to 
stand. "It’s a straight ship," 
I said. The blue-gray glass of
the wave tents them. A black
cock crows in the sea-foam.

 
Some / comments on / the logistics of

She decided to paddle 
there, to join a meeting 
of opposing currents

engineered by a spiral 
laser beam. The brix 
levels were already good — 

cinnamon sticks & slices 
of apple. The local bikers
are joining on Saturday.

 
Even though

the jokes
weren't all
that funny

everybody 
laughed

because
it was The 
President

telling them.

Same old
same old

but with a
significant
difference.

This time
they were
laughing 
with him, 

not at him
like they 
did with 

the fuckwit 
who was the
previous 

POTUS.

 
to your scattered bodies go

This place is a rip off, a real
live example of campaign 
momentum in action, on the
downward slide. A year ago 
it might have been a ukelele
serenade, encouraging women 
to talk to their doctors for free
about the ineffectiveness of 

retention programs or fad diets 
or maybe something about Jam-
iroquai. Now the promises have 
no value, imagined or other-
wise. The candidate is bundled
up, the gifts have stopped giving.

A Narrow Channel

Once again I walk
those long baroque corridors.

A bird is singing;
I have heard its song before.

Butterflies rise disturbed
by the wind yet resettle

to wait for the next gust.
The book falls open

at the same page.
Will no-one rescue me?




Oh Carol 

It was a
night just
right for
singing
Neil Sedaka
songs. No
wonder
he had
Leonard
Cohen on
his mind.

 
Apparently

gluttony is
not recognized
as a sin by the
individual links
in the food chain—

viz. this quite 
large spider 
with a wasp 
of similar size 
pinioned in 

its pincers but 
flipped over so 
they travel back 
to back; & the
conjunction

being hungrily
tracked by a 
lizard that is 
smaller than
either of them.

 
Per severe

When he
presented

his latest
premise

he said
it's the same

as the old one
& the one

that came
before that 

but I'll keep 
on presenting 

it because 
one of these 

times its time
will come.

Yes, Coach

A life broad-
brushed is
limited. Only so
many ways of 
describing
things. There-
fore. Repetition, 
replication. Yes-
terday he
got up &
looked towards the
east, west the day 
before. Today
he is out 
buying a compass, 
learning to do 
things by 
degrees. Minutiae.


in sight

Translucency on 
a different wave-
length. Not light
from behind
but from with-
in. How sweet the 
beets are. Leave
the words      out.

 
Meanwhile

So many things
beginning with the
same letter. No
wonder he was
confused. The court-
yard empty & the
flowers turned
into dust. Never-
theless he pressed 
on with it. Small
animals were
drawn to him.


Reminiscent of a Monet painting

Light is a 
skein on the 
water, is wool
under the eyes 
of astronauts. 
Is the sky de-
rided, a kind of
panopticon. Light
is a sty of argot-
noughts, full of
Goldwyn fleas.  

 
 Bricolage
  
 We add
 some
 element; &
  
 what we
 put together 
 from what-
 ever is
  
 conveniently
 at hand 
  
 lingers, some-
 times
 lasts.
  
  
  
 telemetry
  
 science ≠ silence : ephemeral ≠ femoral : dispute ≠ despite : 
 intuition ≠ retribution : precursor ≠ intercourse : 
 sigh ≠ scythe : ordain ≠ ordinary : trope ≠ tranquility : 
 roadkill ≠ homecoming : intend ≠ intense : 
 epiphany ≠ litany : behind ≠ remind : literal ≠ literary : 
 kind ≠ consign : sure ≠ waterfront : behavior ≠ asteroid.
  
 
   
 A fitted petulance
  
 Exponential 
 time decay 
  
 constants are
 truly under-
  
 stood only 
 by a mere 
  
 handful of 
 multimedia 
  
 puppet show
 performers.
  
  
  
  
 Mercury, when occluded
  
 Add a new page. Edit 
 the panel. Sign up to
  
 receive special offers.
 Just the motivation 
  
 I need to shorten the 
 story. What's with the 
  
 winged sandals, dude?
 
  
 One / less color / in the day
  
 The bird
 with the red
 around its
 eye eats
 the red bird's
 eye chillies
 off the
 bush then
  
 flies away,
 doubly
 diminishing
 the amount
 of color
 in the day.
  
  
 Street seen
  
 The lawyers, on
 their way back
 to Court after
 lunch at a 
 nearby pub, are 
 all dressed like
 undertakers. What
 hope then of a 
 not guilty verdict?