My body is a song
Beat after beat a drummer keeps time
Saving one beat for me and one for the heart of the world
Between us one of us knows
That some things will not last forever
Two loving human friends care for orphaned gorillas
Two human beings – being human
The animals witness to an endangered species
Three wise men arrive in Las Vegas. They are confused. The city of stars accepts their gifts, gives them chips and exchanges their camels for Pontiacs. Eventually they run out of goodwill and are asked to leave the star-city.
Now each of then wears self-correcting sun-glasses; far more cautious when following the brightness of light.
The world is a box with four sides
Two sides are clear so we can see the sky, day and night
If we shut our eyes and listen carefully
We can hear the lid open every time one of us enters
And one of us leaves.
The lad in the schoolyard solves a problem with the same
Mathematical precision of his father
He counts on his five fingers and divides them
Into one tight fist
With this math he gets a perfect score and
Noone disagrees with the result
Six world clocks stop ticking
Each one telling a different time: during rush hour, before the interview, at the moment of martyrdom, just after take off, when war is declared, the seconds of birth.
On any given day each one is true; at least once
For seven decades we have not slept
Our dreams are shapes, hung out to dry:
Like dead bats sometimes caught in electric wires
Like old newspapers stuck on a mesh fence
Like weathered flags on forgotten flag poles
Like peeling billboards advertising cures for decaying teeth.
But soon we will sleep, and retrieve our dreams with renewed delusion.
Eight accounts of starving populations
Eight charity organisations seeking aid
Eight million raised per quarter
Quartered by eight reasons to extract a share
Before the rest is shared to the rest
who continue to starve.
Nine millimetre cannon kills you with a slightly larger calibre than eight millimetre cannon. Makes a slightly larger hole, travels slightly quicker, has a slightly longer trajectory, provides a slightly louder thud or thwuk when it hits the target.
This knowledge may not prevent you from coming to harm; but at least if you're being killed by nine millimetre cannon, you're dying better informed.
How many cynics does it take to change a light bulb?
As many as it takes to be satisfied with this as an ending.