Archive for December, 2017

The English are still talking about that time

in 1914,

Christmas in the trenches, shit hole, no man’s land, Belgium,

they stopped shooting and shook the Germans’ bloody hands.

Naturally, we in the East had something similar,

equally noble and poignant,

even respectfully acknowledging our different dates.

Our Germans: Austrian, Slavic & Hungarian.

Half-frozen kabanossi, kolbasa, slivovitz, black bread and salami.

Christmas respite. Brief peace. We appreciate.

Then the orders come from the scum above (hate)

and the horrors resume.

And we spit on festive cheer.

O’ futility!

Christmas in Galitsiya.




Your Christmas has been

and mine has yet to be,

perhaps you know what I mean…




For most,

Christmas now

is so detached from its name and meaning,

anchored instead in faux feel-good expectation,


commercialism and exploitation,

selling products and selling souls,

digging holes.

New York City, London, Hong Kong, Tokyo…

We follow.

Hollow, so hollow.




Nothing like a death

to bring people to life.

… Opportunists

and assholes.




The kind of people who say they’ll help you

and in so doing drag you into a cesspool.

(I *so* don’t need!)

Walk away

and let me be.




Churchill wrote a letter to Stalin …

Hitler reads …

Where does it lead?

Nowhere good,

frozen death,


and so much more …

Smith wrote a letter to Andropov … …




As Rosa Luxemburg

and Maxim Gorky debated

everything and nothing,

the crackling radio set

gave the old man mixed messages,

he was confused,


After a hard day’s work,

West Australian wheat farm,

he just wanted to listen to Cricket trivia…

but these words were engaging and confusing,

like Beria…




Nothing stings like futility…

I tried hard last year,

you threw it in my face,

it wasn’t the first time,

so why would I try again?




A little place of our own.


And so filthy, fetid and squalid

that no-one else will want to impose,

and we will be safe and sound

in, a little place of our own.





Mind-blowing idea!

You don’t understand it

but you know it’s important,

mind-alteringly, perceptually,


societally transformative,


Still, the 5% of your brain

which Einstein says is usable,

doesn’t want the idea repeated.

Your mind, confused enough,

wants to retreat,

like a penis exposed to Winter.




The “elites”

are so busy studying and analysing other “elites”,

saying complicated, intelligent-seeming things,

their heads stuck so far up each others’ asses,

words muffled by hubris and suffocation,

first-class, airplane travel, high in the sky.

The elites miss what’s happening on the ground,

signs and indications,

the masses are …

Incomplete too.

… Numbed and deluded,

everyone’s a fool!