Life, raw

To feel too much – wimp!
To dismantle the observed – smart-arse!
Tossed in a surf of sensation and thought – narcissist!
Compelled to spill – ranter!
Propelled by impulse – fool!

Christ, who wouldn’t take a drink?

In Switzerland (for Shawn)

Komm mit mir und mit mir schlafen,

Im ein alt hotel im Ludwigshafen,

We’ll drink stolen wine out of stolen glasses

And laugh out loud at the burghers’ arses.

I will bring you traffic signs,

We’ll rip up tickets, won’t pay fines.

We’ll sit in church in our dirty jeans

Reading pornographic magazines.

And then we’ll walk for miles and miles

Past military tulips, synthetic smiles.

World Hails New Metaphysical Poet

For some reason I heard the third quote in a week on BBC 3 from someone referred to as a ‘metaphysical poet.’

Hell, I thought, if business is so brisk in the MP business, maybe there’s an opening for me?
I sat down and dashed this off – I think I may have found my metier!
Before I have business cards printed, I would value your opinion.
What mortal skull can span, O Lord,
This mighty hull, this heaving world?
Shaped by Thine immortal hand
And cast upon Thine ocean grand.
Measured by star, bounded not,
The sweep of space, nor chart, nor plot,
Nor even science the ‘Why’ can tell us,
Ionospheric sails propel us.
A hint, a glimpse of Thy great scheme –
The Milky Way, that clouded stream
That nightly wraps Thy sleeping world
As on we sail, on axis swirled.
And on and on, etcetera, plus;
I could write forever thus.