In the Land of the Blind the One-Eyed Man is Strung Up as a Heretic

Five new poems:

poised.are.the.elements.
'.it.'.isn't.nice.'.is.a.valid.criticism.
elbows.chin.on.a.lampless.table.
so.many.books.to.read.
there.were.smart.people.in.the.Dark.Ages.
I.like.a.cold.blanket.after.my.holiday.
John.and.Sarah.remember.childrens.television.programmes.fondly.
the.deserts.are.drying.up.



a splinter, a task to be found in every pinch of skin.
it's winter, but they've awarded mister Celsius
ten quiet honorary degrees over and above the season's din.
cheek against cheek firm in farewell, grace
in contour and curvature almost too snug
a fit to my momentary embrace
and my own slimline taper.
away with my fleeting visions!
no sweetness must be tasted
for knowledge of Adam's decay.
wrenching a twist of loosened branch
was the bane of this man's hands
nails have once more to puncture the healed-over skin
to pry open old wooden quarries before they are forgotten:
abandoned to post-historic emergency.
the weathers around here grow increasing heterogeny
and that girl still holds my maddening sway.



It came to me when reading 'The Hunter and the Whale':

since all words can now be taken, held, twisted in the hand, divorced from any uttering breath, scrutinised as separate entities in their own special right
then the best words are those that turn back on themselves in mid flow,
sentences that stumble or pirouette or commit hara-kiri to return to the nothingness from whence they were borne, thus leaving no contamination behind
on the page - in the air - in the listener



Self-destruction is not cool.
Nobody will deny that
At least not in a sober, peer-unreviewed environment
And yet it still happens:
A rot sets in, thriving on the raw undersides
Of poised mettle
But from what vacuum did the spores of this decay arise?
And what vehicle responsible for their transmission
From deadwood to dead wood?
People get warm of the degeneration of others;
Gives them role-models to look down on;
The image of a somehow purer reaction to circumstance;
While still they respire, despair, expire
In their shallow parody of health and sanity



care has worn her face out daily
like a favourite item of clothing.
she goes her way like a storefront window
seeing in everything a wearied reflection.