re-running the reels of my presence in this world

• Click for bigger and bigger at other place but still not full size at other place, neither my free blogging platform nor my paid blogging platform can fit full size of tablet three even when jpg cropped, small metaphors abound
• Scientists deciding that because they can't prove a tree has consciousness as humans understand it means trees don't have consciousness is finest metaphor abounding for anything and everything clusterfuckful
• But can turn no profit so won't happen
• Ontologies of mass violence
• No good guys, no bad guys
• White males will kill us all
• Neo-politics: an awful primer
• All Democrats are collaborators, and so are you and me, there is a reason all posts but two a year are tagged my complicity (one of them in four days)

           
                   
         
YOU'VE RUINED MY EVENING/YOU'VE RUINED MY LIFE

Tom Raworth

i would be eight people and then the difficulties vanish

only as one i contain the complications

in a warm house roofed with the rib-cage of an elephant

i pass my grey mornings re-running the reels

and the images are the same but the emphasis shifts

the actors bow gently to me and i envy them

their repeated parts, their constant presence in that world

  

i would be eight people each inhabiting the others’ dreams

walking through corridors of glass framed pages

telling each other the final lines of letters

picking fruit in one dream and storing it in another

only as one i contain the complications

and the images are the same, their constant presence in that world

the actors bow gently to me and envy my grey mornings

   

i would be eight people with the rib-cage of an elephant

picking fruit in a warm house above actors bowing

re-running the reels of my presence in this world

the difficulties vanish and the images are the same

eight people, glass corridors, page lines repeated

inhabiting grey mornings roofed with my complications

only as one walking gently storing my dream