July 16, 2008

a Dadaist

Traces of snow were found in the blood
but the cause of death was heartbreak
not overdose.

He sold the art school to private interests.
Gave his charity away to money,
in a fit of nihilistic rage.

He was so close to his murdered dog
that he would go on all fours
baying at the grave.

A Dadaist, in court
he reversed the charges
and dialled out for pizza.



July 15, 2008

Naked as rain, I walk my ancient rooms,
a willow-the-wisp or bruise, a sliver of spite
goads me, withers whipped on through my doom,
my body dissolving like another marsh light
with handsaws and hawks, since even soaring kites
are tethered to the wind, wind bubbled in sky
sky just a dreamer’s brushstroke in sight
and every brushstroke calligraphs why?
My provincial ceilings, now raised high
house no answers, there’s just this walk;
this next step kills each step gone by
and love just sits in mirror talk
lips now become a mirrored world
or cushions, where my path unfurled.