Ekstasis (1894/1994)

Possesses all the untrammelled lack of rhythm of a text message or a  quickly written email before you blur out the door.

 

Ekstasis (1894/1994)

 

the glass box
architectural
imposition of alienation
the gavel – ‘Your very existence is an imposition to equality boy’
His baritone wheezed

Peaking before he’s already begun
Your birdsong is sung
Get out of the colony
This is pure folly – no vacant space
– and into another.
::
The deck is theirs, destined for diaspora
That bastard Brunel, I’m not there
the century of beautification to begin
::
‘We live as we dream alone’
crackles on the mechanic’s boombox
alone
One-way, nameless: ‘Is that a book?’
Liverpool to Melbourne 
in 60 days, with the imagined community
Cross-quartered, among the bunks
Robbed, stripped, penalised
The night, thick
heaving with possibilities 
against the ostensible fine-tuning of
Orion, headless
Hercules, legless
lost to the sextants, the bitter night trailing them inside
::
a faux-cerebral deckhand, quite literally
tearing up like sandpaper, quivers quietly
in six dimensions 
whatever he meant
‘His place wasn’t booked’
and spotting a psychopath in the 
first-class bathroom
A firing range for the existence he spooked
the century of the self to come
::

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