Marshall E Gass

the links go viral in the wondrous wasteland
people notice blue lettering
take journeys in rivulets of meaning
down pages pumping information
...

inside the cavernous mystery
that exists within you.
Self-reflect and remain silent
...

All he could see were numbers
that reached out and grabbed taxes
and takes, invoices and expenditures.
He could not see explanations of delight
...

Slice the city into two parts
rub salt into open wounds
break down the armoury, shell out the sickles
and spikes and bamboo arrows dipped
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Both seamless in their searching
the inside and outside
my mind is bitter and bold
should I or should I not?
...

The manicured lawn behaves splendidly all summer
never pushing its way through the throngs
of flower beds and razor cut edges.
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For a man who held fire in his homilies
and set the souls aflame with hell
he was gentle at the apse, smiling, smiling
warm hands and crisp cuffs and collars
...

You leave Haast in the velvet valley where the bras
hung just before, dangling breasts of mountains
rearing their nipples of snow at your watching.
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Black and controlled in the corner
eyes piercing the arc of reason
talons out twitching
staring emphatically back
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the entire universe entered through this
umbilical chord
strumming in tune
its lifeblood housed
...

The separation was no more than continents of Circe
Apollo and Atlantis hidden under veils
of age and vintage, years of waiting for the wine
to mellow and hum in vineyard romances of lustre
...

Dear family and friends
At last, my son is walking the long gangplank
to a happy married life. God bless his final journey to sanity.
I'm sure his beautiful bride has learned how to
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In the darkness that dispels all hope
we fumble with meaningless insight.
What we said does not relate to what we want
and yet we embrace boundaries to punish ourselves
...

Tyres and trash climbing to four long stories high
burning the dynamo of governments made
from variegated beliefs in sharing seats
unspent people divided by calculated fear
...

Old T Rex stood on the mountain top
And watched the brontos stroll
Little did he know that further up
Moses was on a roll
...

I'm not brave, never was and never will be
any scars I have are hidden in deep dungeons
somewhere in the vast open spaces of my mind
They are too deep to dig out and analyse. Even try.
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Spark kissed tinder
burst into flames
As men gathered in tight knots
Stitched up a street riot
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Spring
There is synchrony in all things
Nature nurtures
Balances beauty to the beholder
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The smell of dettol permeates way down the street
even as I approach the clinic in terror
death stalks every step and my pulse races
with the knowledge of impending doom.
...

Im done and dusted
packed away in a shoebox
of transparent memories
...