poems

Unfuturistic

2019 · Poetry

                Secret promise, that in secret
                Speaks against Prophecy Major,
                Of collision between story,
                History, and time and arrows
                Thereof. Things will get more like songs
                Like TV. All narrational
                Media. 'I'll feel real again.'
            

                Brain splits again. Brain's no one's now.
                But the arc's and who's the arc? No
                One's who. Bicameral notice
                Comes from a satellite above
                Planet Light-Colour-Matched-to-Mood
                And says wipe eyes, blink, and answer
                A one-shoed man asking for news,
                Tell him it's as beautiful as.
            

                'What is?' Say city is. At night.
                Glisten up and weep Atlantis
                And the waters sink, ancient nerves
                Iced red — and break.
            

A full stop, two Empty pages.

blank, noticeless

Now breath descends Beside shoulders.

wet, colourless

Where am I and Why aren't I dead?