Maps, Territories

This is a cut-up developed from material left for me by many considerate spammers over a period of a few months. Please note that this was back in the day when spammers tried to spoof filters by adding text to their emails. Do NOT click on links in emails from strangers- there’s nothing at the end of those links but trouble.

Remember the voice?
trailing off into the night
new days dawning

Inside the silence

The yellow bag? Empty.

visions of death
end time
They celebrate saucers
and omniscient tea pots
orbiting ever so quietly
somewhere between here and Mars

I’d like to just take a moment
and thank the ninety good citizens
polled galaxially
for rendering a safe
and non-controversial verdict
and yet –
in an unfathomable manner
pushing the margins
of an already dismal day

Here, and not pushing any margin what-so-ever
Firm within the safe silence
Leprechauns dance
and a troupe of wastrel musicians
strum something devious
from the shadows
of a wisteria screen

Inside the silence

McCardle left one pure incisor impression
and at this very moment
a seven person assault team
is taking the temperature of the night
and of McCardle’s super-heated state of mind

Was he right?

studies the terminal’s cascading display
as the thing seeking Brown calls in a favour

A long week’s nostalgia

Sleep the dreamless sleep
cloud covered mind
the distant call of crows

Before the great circle
lost, on some heaving internal ocean
roaring winds shredding sail
shrieking in the sheets
pumps, working overtime

There be dragons
Here, we seek redemption
Here are resurrected broken dreams
In here…
be dragons.

late 2012, early 2013


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