Self Portrait

 

charcoal, booze and pills.

daemonic, in the right hands

without paranoia, cashews,

piranhas circling a drain

upstairs, without which

i’d have difficulties learning

and standing by, watching,

always the king of all.

optimist prime, the sand

to a piece of seafood,

the earl of icy mornings

and black ice tears

forgetting nothing, nothing,

nothing, ventured, nothing

integrated in the sinkhole,

the rat-race of electric

cars without infrastructure

nocturnal carbon emissions

neon lights in a window

warm summer rain

reflecting distorted glow

prime ministrations in

canberra, in winter in

ottawa. skates and sticks

and broken, shattered safety

glass confounded in

the blaze of morning.

mourning new york again

times square dazzle of

commerce and pursuit

of capital at cost price

drugs connecting into other

drugs like puzzles, small

divestments in a tube of

plastic, glue and angst,

scientists comparing

meprobamate to love

in asthenic states and

animal models of panic.

neuronal sparks like fire.

blueberries as a concept,

açai and maple syrup.

ancient transcriptions

in cuneiform, babylonian

poetry. columns, lines

and rows, fitted into

empty cupboards, shelves

and boxes, hidden in the

darkened spaces. the sickly

sweet of cinnamon and

amber, and the violet sound.

iambic manometers tick

tick ticking outside desks

and pens scratching

on parchment spilling

over into ones and zeros

somehow transcribing

into graphics and other

things that work like magic.

trying not to drown in the

bleak whiteness of blank

paper or the imprint of

paws in the sand on the beach

the pristine foreshore

molested by the waves

that roll on and on without

 

          end.

 

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