When the Universe came to Tea

  • I’ll explain my absence in a post or two, although it appears there’s no readership here.
  • Sourly missed writing, but the creative muscle, if you will, is irredeemably flabby. In the meantime here’s a poem. I’ll leave introductions here.collapsed

When the Universe came to Tea

The Universe goes East,
to the landfill surfers
It was a mistake to appropriate a ‘He’
or a human.
Between sheets,
a naked cadence sweeping with the veridian edge
of scapes paved with gilt

From a waterbed hearse,
A council estate nebula eels in and out
of possibility 
Lie berries throng with tea huddles to five pound note thin screens

It sounds like ‘he’ has a lot of poetry in him
‘Continuum, um, um’
We asked why our homes, our jobs, our livelihoods would be destroyed
The answer confounded the philosopher and the politician
and it rained-
all night in the Cosmonaut’s in-TV visor

‘Where’s the eschatological oversight?’ The patriarch mumbled

Nobody has seen the matte answer
Dulux swirls and colorchart cornucopias

Nor sparse, nor siren at the door
Herr Dok, mister Zarathustra
Wave a Wagnerian wand like a remote through the highlights of history
makes us forget
thunderclap: call and respond

The panopitcon zoetrope 
spins off its hinges
so that ‘this moveable feast won’t be leftovers’

reblogs mimicked

A midnight puddle, ripples the stars
an oddessy, a yearning
Toying with infinity, reproduction
All I have is my candour
Conduit not creator

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