Useless Ease


Telly Makes Us


The gridded tower on Winter Hill

caps a corncob of narrative command.

The seemingly benign tones tinkle

out the acceptance and the sacrifice

of what it is to want to want this way.

To get to the facts, the truth, the

reasons-behind is only a means of

making us the square root of quantity.

Those that have arrived here to bite

our ears with dulcet skittishness

are only here to temporalise hell.

They are patented to arrive at this knoll

of mock development and arrayed in

a set series of serried limbos they

fund a repugnant dumb smugness.



[

INFRA NOIR – 23 Untitled Poems


The trauma recedes
into an equipping learnedness.
Not to yield to.
Not to wield.
Its partner will come
in a devastating minim.

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