Two Cynical Poems

“The iPod” and “Exotica”

I must confess, Franz Kafka,
that I’ve never read your books,

I once saw a
made-for-TV movie
of The Trial.

It was snowing outside,
and nothing was on.

I was thinking about
how much I like
the sensation of undressing.

Before the snow,
and things that blind us,
we turn the wheel
so many degrees.

Being long dead,
you may not understand this.
This is the iPod.

Listen to it closely.

It’s a European knowledge of clockwork.
It’s a Zen-styled American milkman.

a smooth menu of everything;
castrati singers,
on early sound.

In the white-walled
city of ghosts.


In the white-walled
city of ghosts,

the inventor of the
marvellous Theremin,

slips out in disguise
leaving his wife and child,

infants sleep silently under their pillows.

Peasants –
every one –
will meet briefly and part,
under vague and complicated
clouds of unreason.

Kafka will contemplate an old joke about Pac-Man.

A man with crutches has
more legs than he wants.




6 thoughts on “Two Cynical Poems

  1. Haha, I have never heard Yoko Ono sounding so much like she wanted to be heard, gorgeous right down to the last vibrating chord, thankyou. And of course your writing was pinpointperfect. You are brilliant,

  2. Yoko Ono deserves something of a reappraisal don’t you think? She’s been treated unfairly. It would be nice if people could get back to seeing her as an artist in her own right…

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