june 2021



...it happens while staring at clouds and oceans

the stomach’s white heat begins to move


extruding towards the soul

this feeling of having been crushed


stabbed in the face by existence

by a type of ecstasy


that no-one dares to contradict

it is, perhaps, this restless, insurmountable pain


of verses that can only be safely read

in the uncovered eyes of the dead


this twilight womb

this place where the clouds can crush


where deep existence is revealed

as the breath of a single atom


a cascading error

that rivets the mind


to such meaningless oceans

such meaningless wonders


to this perverse, intractable joy

of being swallowed by creation...







...so what lies beyond this point

or is this all there is


these shreds of hyperbole 

this origami world


with its beaches dressed in semen

its revelations floodlit


however surely that ancient hinterland 

that newly-found land is still there


calling out across the frontier

must your enmity bleed so freely


must the road to compassion

always go via your fascism


but the checkpoints wait

and the towers scan


quietly collecting faces

drawers full of severed fingers


the alpha and the omega

of an old, malfeasant world


dressed, adorable, mute

this road to wherever...






...what if I don’t want

every voice of every person


to come from my lips

shouting agnus dei


reverse the earth

we are still the minions of death


what if, instead, I choose

not to clamour or chat or cry


or even to text the universe

but instead I choose to drink


the silence in falling snow

the rhythms of drifting seaweed


would it not be a joy

to embrace this cosmic vacuum


which every second of every day

takes from my mouth its share of my breath


but would it really matter

for was I not born a captive to others’ voices


an accident of countless histories not my own

perhaps then this is what it means


to be sired by silence

a child falling as snow...