Unhappy Old Year

a soiled vision of the old, in the blurry fog of the year to come

rhizome janus

'You got it all dead wrong about time'
said that burbling two-head mutant seer, 
deviant forward-backward yearend liar

Held forth portentous, drooled on his belly,
spouted ragebait, jargon and warpoems —
no-one listened  
                                 why the fuck would they?

Earth’s filled with fractured fascinations —

this monster treads, leaving crater footprints,
sunrise pink stomped homes, toyed ruins 

Our beds smoulder with silent ash dreamers

Artillery sings among the sunflowers
screamsongs of unforgettable choirs

The giant huffs gasoline, snuffles clean wind
and scowls, displeased with how it’s been going

No munitions have been dropped in hours
no units sold, no merchandise shipped out

In his huff-high there should be more to please —
where’s all the fun if no-one’s baby cries? 

'Time’s not an arrow but a blunt instrument'
said the slob prophet, facing futurewards 
and back at once, an equivocal seer
in a wobbly time 
                                 flush with revulsion and revolt 


'It bashes your thick heads with the same old shit
while you keep looking for some new insight'

And then he …

… futzed with his ombligo

… whistled a bolero

… imagined someone’s hero

… and came up with a zero

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