Leaving The World

is not as bad
as you’d think
the grand movement
the small movement,
you pull your swifty
and disappear


now in the habit
of taking evil
in your stride,
(thanks to you,
      US drones)

three years after the day
you shrouded
the Guernica replica

you find you have
no further questions

for the time being

along the  LA freeway
black derricks
lumber up and down 
Jean Tinguely sculptures,
only     ominous
& witless
in a waterless world


we would like to clear
the trees,
enable the panorama

no longer photograph
the coloured leaves
tourists come to see


men make man made,
you can study them
making memoir
under the summit
eat up big,
feed your hero,
poke him,
could become Pegasus,
born from Picasso’s wound


the way 
he never leaves himself

and always
disregards The Real


he drank
crystal-infused water
all night long, for nights on end,
placed his body on a bed
and went out of the room


poet's biography ->