Copyright © 2011 Ernest Bloom.
Lost at sea, lost
At sea on the moon, sweet Maria, did you
Delete my email address?
Silver dust falls slowly, slowly scanning
Radio frequencies for another mad lunatic genius
Voices fall dead with broken words
Before they're spoken. You forgot to
Give me a single token. I know
The Jawas sold you a lemon droid
Now my every destination: void
I drove through the licking lightning
Quite close to your house, quite
Close to your house. Driving through bright
Cold rain, I tried to feel you presence
Out there somewhere close by, trying to
Sense my presence from where you stood
Gazing sensing something but unsuspecting on one
Cold electric storming night
Might as well be hung over in Madagascar
Smoking a fat khat-soaked Cuban cigar
Catha edulis. I hit reload
Over and over and over again
I hit reload over and over again
Glassy computer eyes scanning for a message
Hungry for contact. I accidentally
Got off the train in Zanzibar
With no loose change for a return ticket
A dozen new diseases that destiny decided
I really ought to contract
Reel me back in
I've still got your hook in my throat
In case you've forgotten it
And the stinging jellyfish toxin of your
Laser-guided dart still
Flames through my heart
We'll go
Inspect the crop circles from
Unsteady crop dusters while you complain
Of Jawas who sold you a lemon droid
And I swallow more seawater, my every
Destination: void
In the red glow licking beyond
The edge of the Earth
"ive still got your hook in my throat". Everything fits. You work with rhyme and terrifying reason. Mostly i like the part about the storm. Its so electrifyingly lonely, just maddening
ReplyDeleteI think your best, most moving piece in a long while. It's an h-bomb of emotion. The surreal feel well complements this story of what I see as computer-age alienation. Men forsaking physical stability, finding themselves trapped beyond retrieve or contact in a fantasy beyond the world, a cybernetic limbo "beyond the edge of Earth"
ReplyDeleteThe odd few rhymes are sweet. The repetitions actually work towards the presentation, not retracting from it.
It's one of those poems that can be enjoyed for the sheer imagery, without regard for meaning or technique or symbolism. You paint with words, string 'em up into psychedelic albeit terrifying mind mosaics.
I could go on and on. But enough said.
um...a little fragment of a thing, but yes, not as lifeless as much of the stuff i've posted here in the last year. much much too focused on the novel to the exclusion of all else.
ReplyDelete