Mist is hiding
the sacred heart

and smoke
the city of angels.

metallic, like a god

first they sold Abdennour, then they sold Christ

"That declaration of readiness, no matter what the outcome, that’s a part of everyone’s soul. We are all motivated by deep impulses and deep appetites to serve, even though we may not be able to locate that which we are hoping to serve. So this is just a part of my nature and I think everybody else’s nature to offer oneself at the critical moment when the emergency becomes articulate. It is only when the emergency becomes articulate that we can locate that willingness to serve."  Leonard Cohen

I have seen the best minds of my generation destroyed
        by start-ups, smug, hypocritical and sad,
dragging themselves through Palo Alto at dawn
        looking for a gruff VC,
headhunted hipsters burning for singularity
        and a half-day course in mindfulness,
who sat up for days in augmented wealth glugging on soylent
       sober on amaranth and the gluten-free jazz
       of dawn's abundant enema,
who bared their coy nipples to each other and to Elon
      in the half-arsed drag and TedX of a catered desert tent.

    the warm
crosses blinked
     to danger's
              nasturtium

Because we evolve
we out-evolved ourselves;
we thought we were winning
but the house did.

The fires

As the harvest failed
and the seas rose up
and the flames from the stairwell
licked at our door
we all of us did what we were told
and stayed in Plato's cave.

As I was busy doing good
It turned out I was doing wrong;

As I walked out one morning,
A ghost walked in and stole my song.

I need
to believe
in a place
where
people
treat each
other well;

it isn't
art,
there is
only room
for one
in there

but without it
there isn't any.

today
they say
an algorithm
made me

move through
life

but I have
heard it all
before

allah, gorithm
plus ça change

Syracuse

salt, desert, mountain, dirt

The night it rained

The night it rained
three weeks
in half an hour
the rain fell
on us
and washed
away the streets,
and we all
kept on drinking
as if it was
Weimar.

today I am crying
   for what is to come;

   after I'll get back to work,
but let me cry a while first

two o'clock,
two hundred cars,
two hundred puffs
       of petrol

It dwells beneath
whatever it is
the sun said;

in Syracuse
in a naked room,
the TV

set, the morphine.

the nights of silence;

walking back home
                 through the nights of silence

So we did as we were told
and stayed in Plato's cave

a casual bomb, a sophisticated fuck

gearden

rhy
thm

MELENCHON
TUESUNCON

lithium

sun
light's
chemi
stry

don't know what you've got till it's gone…

 So he gave me milk,
      a beaker of gin
  and the night stars
   turned to evergreen.

angel of god
     angel of god

     why did you show me this hole in the sky?

If it be your will…

reading tomorrow

I am participating in a reading tomorrow at the Maison de la Poésie to voice opposition to Donald Trump's restrictive immigration policy.  Full details below:

http://www.maisondelapoesieparis.com/events/inclusion-les-poetes-et-les-americains-de-paris-disent-leur-opposition-au-decret-anti-immigration-de-donald-trump/

Guest poet tonight @ Le Bistrot des Artistes

I am reading tonight as the invited guest at the Open Secret night at Le Bistrot des Artistes (6 rue des Anglais, 75005 Paris).  Doors open at 20:00, poetry starts at 21:00.

https://www.facebook.com/events/360424594337014/