The Cashpoint
Transactions common passing strange.
Such buttons pressed may yield so much.
Coterminal a gift exchange.
Reciprocal presents as such.
Such buttons pressed may yield so much, Continue reading
Author: olivertearle
London is the Capital of Great Britain
London is the Capital of Great Britain
To get inside you have to climb the ladder.
The rungs, a greasy pole; your hands are sore.
A back window will suffice if there’s no other,
a loophole makes a door a portiere.
For now, from wall to wall you take your steps:
a case of no belongings, stashed under the bed
and ready to begin the whole rabid
rat race at a hat’s drop, when the music stops. Continue reading
Carthage
Carthage
Dismissed as propaganda, it was true
that Carthaginians sacrificed the youth
to please and mollify the gods they knew,
but most did not believe it true, because
they did not want to think our ancestors
capable of such atrocities. Continue reading
The Mediums
The Mediums
It took a week for us to stop hearing the voices.
Although they had been our constant companions
for years by then, a steady stream of chatter,
it reached the point where they became unbearable.
Each message had become a death to us. Just a little
to start with, soft like the twitter of birds,
not too intrusive perhaps, but then more insistent
by the day, slowly overwhelming, until
our own voices, thoughts, were lost to theirs.
Eventually, it was us or them. They became Continue reading
Earth Summit
Earth Summit
All gifts are off: for this stolen spark of power
the world rebelled and asked for something back.
He cheated. Man enjoyed playing with fire
too much, thought little of him on his rock,
chained and consumed. The air grew hot and dark. Continue reading
Conjunction
Conjunction
We are not seen together during the day,
keeping our distance, as one must. We do
nothing we should not, at least since centuries back.
Such an alignment is best kept for the dark. Continue reading
Closures
Closures
The line’s a line but drawn oblique.
Each day gives barely half the space.
The blood is work. The flesh is weak.
Mere charm in touch is all technique.
Clear eyes recoil, for nowadays
the line’s a line but drawn oblique. Continue reading
