Friday, December 9, 2016

Kit Kelen #345 - in my time

in my time

coming to an end
the phone with a cord
connecting walls of the world
and sundry kinds of tethering
the steampunk keys of mechanical type
pornography in offset litho
maybe cancer
malaria I hope
so many dementias I can't recall
a record goes round and round

ivory tinkle
of all these commas
no longer full stops

this box in which I'm typing now
box into which I see

but you'll be there still
won't you, please?

and what goes on
lust and birth
and all their courage, carry-on

the stone that shows my time has passed
the year to other-end my hyphen

these things as surplus to requirement
as any aide-memoire

so much that I hope gone
my footprint in the heavens
those means by which I'm here and home

callous pretense
the post truth Trump
every last hurtful lie
to cook the planet
cause who cares
but rake it in

it's hope that won't give up on us

will the state wither away?

will nations and borders be swept from the Earth?

will labour be an art of living
and capital slough off?

will gods concede an end to their age?

there will be lust as long as we're let

out of the fire
all sorts of things built
remains to read like entrails

there will be poetry
there will be paint

I hope the radio remains
surely the cup of tea still?
the inches to the mile?
surely the hours of the clock?

all in my good time

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