Ode to the Avant-garde Poster

ODE TO THE AVANT-GARDE POSTER

This is a multi-part poem in MIME format.

it is time the walrus said
to have a crack at the painful
avant-garde poster

he likes his outlook free expression
it comes with natty stationery
and animated gibes
spewing miles and miles of code
how pretty it looks
on the screens of the blessed

he doesn't care a u-bend
how looks his double-gobbledegook
to sufferers of indigestion
hugging the bandwidth
like the middle-lane hogger
on the M62

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© GERALD ENGLAND

Composed: Gee Cross, 11th May 1999

Publication

2002 Fire (UK)

Eight Eights

EIGHT EIGHTS

1

and though she knew despite her vow
the significance of the set
and how from that remote retreat
to make arrangements to keep safe
those who were given just a part
her own passage seemed pre-ordained
across a troubled continent
where even sisters can’t be sure

2

and the man on the bicycle
led her along the city streets
to meet someone from whom she wanted
that which could not then be given
and though she saw the second corpse
it only emerged days later
dragged out of the dark river
from which she knew she had to flee

3

and when in the height of passion
he called out not her own name but
that of her departed sister
her own rapture intensified
not sensing then that their child
would be born many miles away
across the sea and the desert
under the eye of one greater

4

and having secured two carpets
her advantage remained obscure
when the trans-continental car appeared
but only feet find dark locales
where hides the captive who can fly
to choose the one who will pass on
to follow footsteps from the past
venturing deep into the sands


5

and now accused of treachery
she felt herself free to return
not to avenge her accuser
but another whose treachery
was against herself and her sister
and having committed the act
it was by a double disguise
she herself was not sacrificed

6

and the singing sands tore across
reducing body shells to rust
so four feet transported two feet
escaping then by charter flight
unheeding the coded warning
only the biting of ankles
allowed their passage to the waves
but the dogfight wasn’t over

7

and having crossed first the channel
to talk in the gentleman’s club
she then traversed the atlantic
seeking the father of her child
before ensuring he married
the woman who could harm her most
yet held the key to her success
and she only then drank deeply

8

and after sailing up river
the long lost brothers met again
antique furniture was destroyed
international relations
were laid open to the world’s gaze
it was time at last to take on
the chance for immortality
the chance to bury the past and

© Gerald England

Composed: Rathmore, 5th April 1999

Publication

2002 Fire (UK)

Lucky Pierre

LUCKY PIERRE

Earth, the bird, the vine and advance notification of smoke blown horizontally from rolling whirlpools.
Then he was quiet, cramped, then whoosh, beneath one -
where it departed into each other -
a girl with white on their shattering windshields, sending heads, gripping two, three, barren,
Undeterred by a department of vegetation, side-stepping the suicides,
Opening his fishy-smelling sealskin mitts, hobbling to the man on black slush:
Lucky Pierre. He is drawn into the echo of transgressions;
The doors were by his hands seized on his open grave!
But this wild terrain cleft violently to an end of pale expanse for muffins, what worked him.
He screams with tenebrous absences behind the blood,
The world; the eye that can see the dying city streets.

© Gerald England

Composed: Gee Cross, 5th November 1993

Publications

1997 Gallery Zandraat (Internet)
2002 Fire (UK)