THAT'S LIFE
(looking at a photo of John Coltrane)

First of all

the stripes of the shirt

but the rest is attention

like mine when life

is going round the bend

and the cold foot

no time

the lightning has already gone

and now I am

stereopathic again

on the motorway desk of my bedroom

thinking That's Life

ALL OF ME

in the photo

radio

waves of empty

and a swollen stomache.

The Consequence of Everything is Everything

& words have desolate borders

& sheiks sink their arses in nonsensical swimming pools

& dead highways

& barred sun

but the words are not to blame

& intelligence is boring

& seven billions kings of only one kingdom

seven billions painful kings

prepare themselves for carnage

as though it were afternoon tea

at the side of the Brennero interstate road

The Consequence of Everything is Everything

and the horror-training of the self taught

begins in the bar in the morning

and after for everyone else

a television special on snipers and napalm

& nuclear explosion is nothing but a pleasant change

for athletes well-trained

in noble sentiments and catastrophe

& poets masturbate copying copied verses

& others defecate with Celine

hang-overs and cerebral blood

& real poets steal tanks and launch into the traffic

& real poets steal rhythm of an exhausted noon

in a pidgeon shadow

The Consequence of Everything is Everything

on the words' borders

desolate clusters of boredom and frenetic renewal

& a bonsai doesn't often invent a new leaf

and an unknown virus

doesn't often attack humanity

REVEALING

itself in a disease

that the desperate doctors call