How The CIA Use Space-Alien Hitmen To Hunt Down & Terminate Bin Laden

HOW THE CIA USE SPACE-ALIEN HITMEN TO HUNT DOWN & TERMINATE BIN LADEN / THE 24-hr ASSASSINATION OF ANTHONY CHARLES LYNTON BLAIR (ex-PM)

listen… we must talk, we’re shrouded in guilt
about this combustible planet
and the damage done,
we’re a doomed self-destructive species
awaiting the end,
with leaders who keep us immersed in fears
so that we’re persuaded to support wars
when we feel ourselves most terrorised,
there are CCTV cameras to maintain surveillance
and accumulate dossiers on our petty indiscretions
in convolutions of menace,
in diagrams of tube-stations,
in traces of incriminating body-fluids,
in sketches of airline security checks,
until its raddled schizoid vacuum-gaze
penetrates my hope, my eyes, my mind,
with madness tapping me on the shoulder offering
geopolitical maps to make moping poets paranoid,
this decade of strange portents is
robbing the world of its beauty…
but hush, we won’t talk of that now, wait,
my madnesses don’t want to come out today
to play, I’ve got words to scribble instead,
in this unflinched moment tonight,
we’ll talk of love, & other things…


Published in:-
‘QUARRY no.5’ (UK – April 2008)

First reactions to this are - yes, it's a poem of two parts. The eco-warning. Then the soft seduction. Wrong. The over-riding male priority in any given situation is to get laid. This poem is meant to chart a calculated Global-Warning equivalent of the 'this could be our last night together, I may not return from the dawn bombing raid over Dresden. Let's take comfort in each other's arms while we still have time'. Survival of the selfish-gene maybe, but it's probably an equally valid seduction-scam for every soldier shipping out to Afghanistan... or to us all on the brink of environmental armageddon...