Night sky, wet roads; headlines thick,
big-font lines, the whole shtick
in I Ching throws.
Auto and plant emissions linked to fetal harm
bling bling—“linked to”
but, as stated, “no cause for alarm.”

The great hinge allowed only small openings
along irregular lines of split emanations
whose glut-fonts roiled from dark to dark.

When I threw this as far as I could,
I didn’t understand
that all I’d established was the size of the acreage
and the smash of the throw
that now I see
as ideogram debris.

Hungry? eat sugared salt.
Covenant-less?
It’s you become suspect.

“All of this has been reviewed and is legal.
“However, I am sorry” (as stated)
“that there are perceptions
“and allegations of ethical lapses.”

Of spoils and spoilers,
of the rotted meat governing the ground,
glyph for acer-rage;
of the spoils of war,
of “smash and grab” economies
and the spoils of invisible war—
“Trick in the full
tricked
sense of the word.”

“12 hours per day for a pittance, living
“12 to a room, working
“in fenced-in factory complexes,”
nailed to the sewing,
chained to fabrications.

Who controls these junctures?
who prices these conjunctions?
who mines the evisceration?
Another walks beside me, not an illusion.
Revenant, tell me if you know
what land am I? and you?

Whether this you/me one be plump-full or denied,
obese or starved, run down or over-passed,
our acts spin little balls of dust
from the lint stream of this air.

There is a garish palette of superabundance at an undisclosed location.
Shopping binge compensates for a low industrial sector
Buy enlarge.
Freedom of Choice! (“linked to,” as stated, “no cause for alarm”)
And then the prototype robot-soldier
“readied, aimed and fired at a Pepsi can,
performing the basic tasks of hunting and killing.”

So That:
This work will never hit
the post-production stage,
because

Tanker Sinks Off Spain, Threatening Eco-disaster

The ecology of everything holding, breaking, presenting, emerging, swarming forward
into linked emergencies. What is the damage done? to whom? how long to cover over?
How will the “R” (find and replace) ever recover? Watch those startling sticks of chance
get cast, and yo, your name here.

Begin anywhere,
throw by throw.
Out-there
connected
to the over-here,
must talk of that.
A Cruel Past Lingers
At just this time of year
the light changes.
No leaves yet
so the air shines.
And grit flies everywhere,
blows into the eye,
that hurts and tears.

Being choosing articulating refusing detailing
along the seam.
To keep track of grievances means living in fury. Forget recollection in tranquility. Try
collection today. Any day will do.

To search this otherwhere of here,
do you claim instruction?
This might be it.
An eros of production meets the detritus of over-kill.

“ ‘Smart dust’ is now in prototype,” which means
“communicating sensors, tiny grains of sand,
“might be strewn by the thousands
“on fields and forests, all over the land.

“Envision such sensors monitoring
“forests for fire, warning
“soldiers of dangerous substances on the battlefield, alerting
“border guards to activity in remote areas.”

Who strews, who reaps?
What is it to be tracked? What catch
to it? what caught? what purpose to deploy?
What haunt imprinted? Who
at stake? Why
tracked? why fought?

Flakes of flinty info. fly
directly into my third eye;
I see my second self
hard pressed, dispersed
through far-encumbered fields,
watched by the monitors of dust
swept in
swept up
swept out
swept over.
The monitors go down.
And then the glass goes dark.