28/04/2010

Eyjafjallajokull

It said on the news today that nobody died.
That there's a big black cloud hanging over us
that will never rain, but someday clear.
That it will provide us with beautiful sunsets and settle softly on our noses.
It said on the news today that blacks the new white and
the dictionary has placed
FIRESNOW
between
FIREBRAND
and
FIREWORKS.
In other news television has taken control of the NHS and will hand out glasses for free,
with a tagline written upon each pair; 'Its the best way to BBC'.
To collect your complimentary pair of anti-Israel specs
shout answers to this equasion at your television set.
If you do not receive your glasses:
you are not shouting loud enough.
A survey
showed an increase in preference towards the sea over the sky.
A ten year old said that the sea was a more aspirational symbol than the stars
and that the more time her father spent at home the more he smelt like
white spirit.
In other news, ferry prices have rocketed and jumbo jet parts are being sold off.
There was a loud bang heard today
and the roads are clear
and the only pollution presently is the tar stuffed down in God's lungs.
It said on the news today that the Lord has cancer
and that cigarettes are free.
That there was world wide looting of fag factories resulting in
escalated
tension and riots followed by a relaxed
exhalation
and a new feeling of global affinity with Hashem,
Well, that's what it said.
And the weather man explained
that there's a big black cloud hanging over us that will someday clear,
but never rain.

A TABLE UNLAID

I will not try animate you
as you need
no boots, coat or hat.
There'll be no limbs attached,
no blood
to drain
or air to catch.
Sitting as you are;
no rim around your Fedora or
carnation in your shirt,
no proud straight back against
an empty arm chair,
with no fingers to crack and
no rings to place there.
No strong jaw or romantic
temperament.
No reputation for being a
gentleman.
No easy way to settle
when
you've no legs to rest or
knees to bend.
And with no soft lip with split not on,
and no warm eyes unbruised,
there's no blood that clots to heal for them
and no need to stitch or sooth.
With no shoulders broad to hang
no suit.
No buttons to buttons
and no laces to boot,
and between these two
no cloth there to cover,
neither your right leg left
just as un as the other.
And so
sits empty
your invisible
chair,
inside your invisible
walls, by your fire of air.
Upon your transparent rug,
in a house no one made;
there you sit
with no body
at a table unlaid.