1

the daily dread

i have only one fear 
and in looking for it 
i have lived every other fear
i cannot find my fear 
i make do with the daily dread 
there is no reason here
only other peoples’ histories
their thoughts can kill 
a lifetime of hunger
the lives of great men 
the shoulders of giants
these are pestilent things
ask a leaf what it thinks 
of gutenberg and it will 
question it’s place in
the lines preceding
I have only one fear 
that if I cannot find it 
there will be more like me
undeniable revulsive unstoppable: 
the world needs a warning 
it needs to be warned off 
from all speakable things 
there is no reason here
just an island with a hole 
filled with water where 
crusoe went digging 
in the hours before 
he gained control
I have only one fear
and it does not know me
like strangers we rebel against
the colours that leave 
the pictures we adore 
there is no reason here
no audience no co-actors in the wings 
no boards below the feet 
all the stones have been turned
each against the other 

***

2

its a quick sketch world and the sun belongs to no one 

these are people.
this one’s heart is scotch taped.
that one’s a lover with a rubbery tongue.
these are houses.
some are closer to the ground.
these are people.
she is a mother is a reproducing machine.
another struggled ten years  for a daughter.
these are houses.
they look different in different countries.
most have windows all have entrances.
when there are doors some people bang them down.
children while growing up used to like standing at windows.
these are people.
some worked very hard for money for family.
some families will divide some will survive.
brothers hold hands sisters share hearts.
brothers fuck up the same woman.
sisters share the scotch tape.
these are houses.
they can do nothing before a single bomb.   
some people buy rubble. 
you can negotiate.

***

3

pictures

you and I, we are
photographs on opposite walls
passing between us life
leaves us unaffected
the dust we gather daily
equals the dust we daily lose
you are a photographed man
I am your woman in a photograph
where we now may be, gender is a camera lens
we spoke of this, of being, of here, being here we cannot speak
I wait for the next life you promised me, silently
await a sign that can decipher me, 
something  to believe in