OPEN LETTER TO THE FUTURE

dear future yous

yes
you
in
the
silicon
dust

you eating grey putty
from the seed banks mush

you slipping across 
the laminated british isles
firmware
forever
buffering
in
your
boots

to you i say yes

yes the sky was once a fantastic blue
and
the oceans any shade you could think of

and yes 
the clouds
were the most perfect things
and
birdsong tho wonderful
was irritating too

( we did that -
  they learned our alarms
  in the citys
  24 7
  chiming
  twilight
  monochrome -
  just ask the unabomber )

and yes
the forests

well 
how to describe a forest ?

to you
who never
seen one ?

well
it was like heaven in there
like heaven in the woods

and i can only hope 
you have wonders of your own
cos we had 
one helluva
wrap bash
and 
i can tell you this -

that suicide love ?

well
its 
very
good for the appetite 

kindest regards
the 20th C

from loverofsadness.net

POETS ! 2

poets !

do you mow that lawn ?
or
lay on it
and 
wallow weakly in its 
tiny
forests
wondering
if
you
can face the metallic smell and cobwebs
of
the
dark
inhabited
shed 
where the mower - LEVIATHAN - waits dusty and heavy ?

do you
just lay abandoned in its tall wands
and
fuzzball meadows
watching
its
citizens
pace and parade
and
try to forget
the
angry row the mower would yell ?

if it would start anyway . . .

and wheres the grass catcher ?

and the petrol can ?

and
who
are
you
anyway
to cull this lush microcosm 
this
thick
gifted
apron - natures deep pile home ?

dont worry about it -
it
will
get
mowed
another day
when
your
head
is squarer
and
the
chaos
needs a fight