Monthly Archives: January 2012

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Propaganda Sheet

I was impressed
and taken in
then immeasurably saddened
by the contrast
between the policy
and the quality of the prose

Let us pray.

The sermons
of an erudite Baron
were spiced with omniscient
tolerance
and distant love

Let us pray.

‘Standpoint’
had a sanctimonious tone
of outrage
prosaic fulminations
by snobbish schoolboys
outraged by the poorly paid
and evil rioting children
the disreputable
and the maimed

Let us pray.

Those pesky Arabs
were deservedly invaded
occupied and terrorised
by the leaders
of the freedom loving world

Let us pray.

How dare they
upset the good old boys
dreaming
and reminiscing
about heroic deeds
or while out huntin’
prayin’
or just tipplin’

Let us pray.

Words of manic wisdom
from raving Nick
of neoliberal superiority
in a world on the edge
of economic catastrophe
and preparing
for nuclear annihilation

Let us pray.

Solemn and aggrieved
half-truths
lies
and distortions
like pestilent weeds
churned out
by the populist tabloids
and parasitic shock jocks
obscenely
in beautifully composed
and formatted prose

Let us pray.

They justify
the disintegration
of selected targets
by unmanned
Reaper Hellfire rockets
as the defence of democracy.

Let us pray

for their blinkered
befogged
reactionary
democratic values
and unsound minds.

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Yellow, Grim and Grey

The melliferous heat
inside an empty room
decorated each wall
with a mellow yellow.

Experienced cynics
flattered by flatulence
obtained bananas
from professional acrobats.

Let us wonder why
we prayed
for honest flagellants
and dined on fish and chips.

Sometimes shadows
doomed to die
betrayed the light
on sad and gloomy days.

The paranoia
of the deluded mind
feeds on myths
of the miraculous kind.

Ferocious beasts of ill repute
have all it takes
to run for president
of the United States.

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Krill

Glass doors
open automatically
like a giant’s yawning maw
or a whale
designed to swallow
customers
programmed to spend
and autonomously navigate
guided by signs
each separate mind
segregated
but robotically inclined.

They stand in groups
or sit at formica tables
window shop
ride the escalators
enter the supermarket
cold as a winter’s night
stocked, stacked
and refrigerated
with dead meat
the remains of carcasses
attractively displayed
encased in plastic wraps.

Fruit and vegies
arranged in rows
like soldiers on parade
to be inspected and selected
or weaving away
like matadors
with expressionless faces
as ladies with babies
barge through like torpedoes
with prams or trolleys
to braying laughter
from a clown’s gaping maw.

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Cross-hatching

An academic artist
old, and long forgotten
wearing a beret
on his tonsured head
began to sketch
a facsimile of himself
from inside his mind.

A brilliant draughtsman
of the old school
his lines began to live
and reproduce
moving animatedly
and haphazardly
in all directions.

He gazed amazed
at his recreation
which to his horror
began to represent
a misshapen, mindless mass
like some New Age installation
he so despised.

Lines that had vainly tried
to escape the page
began regrouping
until only the fittest survived
to break free
and scramble back inside
the old man’s mind.