Modern poetry brought us here
& dropped us off, without a
keyhole or even a view; the
windows are sealed & the sun
is kept strictly bound inside
anti-vascular jelly, that is
to say, hard cash. Some poets,
oiled & flavoured, are left
out in the heat till entirely
dessicated, their works taken
off by the US military for
research purposes, plugged
into the social mainframe as
overheard conversation, or
‘legality’ as ‘torture’, kept
entirely clean & seperable
in the mind of an award-
winning poet, gods own
property, used as a flag or
romantic veil: “I am making
a world that has no place for
orange, I am awoken by buzzers
all day and all night and what
they say is we want all the
money’s half-life flutters in-
side all the language as melt-
core of what some prick in
America tells us it says”. Mean-
while, people are being starved.
They are sealed and the poets
haven’t seen them, how could they
as competition ups the ante &
everyone without a full plate
is silently taken out & shot:
the police method of knowledge
is the newer, cleaner avant-garde.


(((NB - the photograph at the top of this post shows the king and queen of Official Verse Culture being entertained by the public murder of Saddam Hussein)))