july 2019




...the sun’s language is one vast, blazing silence

and every human utterance since has been a betrayal


every sonnet a wound

every birth a defiance


and every drop of rain an inaudible rage

demanding why, why this blue-scattered light


a lark shoots skywards emptying its tiny heart

singing for the sheer joy of rebellion


meteors crush my soul

and I am covered in a special death


the renaissance of all things

a man made of ash


whose words come from caves and mist

a man who has lived in the mouths of gods


places filled with sobriety, greed and dust

where the sun was pushed to the back of my throat


and left to quietly disguise its true intent

of transforming freedom


into some meaningless choreography

and kill all that stand before it...






...as the searches grow and grow

so the ground succumbs


a screen is touched

an ocean sold


the world hallucinates

and the world invites


but the wifi foetus

knows just what to do next


embrace the chasm

override mortality


then code for aggression, vanity

for all that violates


but, on the other side

on the other, far side of paradise


there is this realm

this palace of one-dimensional souls


where the cyclops sits whistling a tune

occasionally spitting through the screens


brain tissue, buttons, the odd tooth

some magic words to pull a crowd


and as the multitudes grow and grow

so the ground succumbs


there is light and there is light

but only one darkness


only one chasm...






...and here they come, smile by smile

the high, global priests


flaunting the sovereignty of their testes

breaths reeking


throats lined

with money


with god’s pearly ejaculate

moving from mouth to mouth


this manhood of bulls

this telling resuscitation of evil


and these oracles and scryers

with their flaming, green eyes


they are no different

they judge, they enact


they cipher their superhuman algorithms

to catch the truth


to stretch from mouth to mouth

this manhood of bulls


this manhood of throats

lined with rape


the repetitive pre-eminence

of outright evil


and yet, and yet the world spins on

from smile to smile


a child in acute distress

motherless and beyond reach...







...they say being alive is a good thing

and yet this good snake, this ruse


has slipped millions of its distrustful eyes

deep into my mind


and looking out over the surrounding hills

I see only indifference and madness


busy conceiving

busy sliding needles into their arms


beneath my thumb I crush several ants

and immediately the executioners


begin to pound on my roof

the heart’s flesh, they shout, is driven


by a serendipitous agony

you are no longer an epicentre of anything


so crush the sliding hills

throw down your mind


and let indifference breed its snakes

millions now slither from the walls


and having the eyes of a serpent

they say is a good thing


you will be an immaculate survivor

always alive, always watchful


the deep conquest of someone else's mind...