Sunday, July 17, 2011

noisy spirits

it is really wrong and somehow so right

the focus the sheer attention is the problem

it is like there are ghosts everywhere
the split between magic and mysticism
for three nights I sat in bed firing my gun at you
but you would not disappear

it is dangerous to be in this zone
everything stops here
everything is examined to destruction

if you want to be safe
get lower down the scale
keep away
keep away

out on the heath
someone on a tractor
but it doesn't look human
it looks like a bear
riding a tractor out on the heath
I am at the window looking out
there is a bear driving a tractor

something is really wrong

let's play Chess again
I understand it now
your shoes indicate that you
are not sane
you live in fantasies
you accept a world where bears
drive tractors

our emotions have not arrived yet
maybe they won't

he made Paulus a field marshal
so that he would commit suicide
his facial tic was the 6th army
dead hands tuning the Christmas broadcasts
trudging to Siberia dying
if he really believed he was right
then what choice did he have?
but why then cyanide
if it really seemed right?

do we like Jews?
Jews is a wrong category
one might equally decide to be
a parrot or a human

this inclusion is an exclusion
so yes we like them as much
as parrots or humans
for they are just that nothing
that is us

this is why the cyanide
the burning
because finally the sense somewhere
of the rightness being wrong
of there being no wider answer
beyond that small space
where it could thrive

these are dreams
that cannot live outside
that warmth where they hatch

there is no excuse for religion

.a cat buys a dream
the Hulk

gamma-roaches crawl out of the wreckage

you don't know it
but you love me

we are in deep deep water
our eyes sting
we have forgotten everything
we are now elsewhere dead
and alive
and wrong and right
always in danger
forgetful, wayward, mad
sinking, rising

never what we think we are

the titles run down
to the tune
we exit into the rain
black dead rain full of those rainbows
where our hearts catch light

but really
this chaos is where you live

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