Pleistocene Breakout

God does not exist !

you hear them crying

and they are not wrong.
But, as we suspected all along,


We do.



To Be


is different than

To Exist

– in the Latin etymology –

Exist comes from
Ex-Sistus,
the thing that gets out of


The (one who) is


/the one who sits (literal)



We emerge


from some
womb immanent


Ultimately,
like a
firmament,


Vastness that is

Like a skyline viewed

from the middle of the sea

or off the top of a mountain,


unbeknownst


to those in the valley

Thorns and manure

Old tree trunks in the desert
barefoot on the heath

Bleeding claret

on the clean cut
lawns

moody mouldy melodies,
resonant and groovy

Napoleon stands,

with unwashed hands

road full of

detritus and corngold

warriors and geniuses

amphetamine bulldog

roadbuilding

God is old fashioned.  

Grief is old fashioned.  

The world is old fashioned. 

Cosmic laws, whatever they are, 
don't do whatever they want.

disasters happen.  

What we do here matters somewhere else.

Ezra, Eliza & Euclid

Aubrey moos in blind drunk darkness

in violent perambulations

cobblestone reveries

Missed the daily service

attendance by pretty girls hath fallen

maids supply mouldy button 
sponges and 
hot english dirt water

construction sore tea

Puritan long shadows

windfarm nouvelle clutter,

The land of Jute

Beer, gin hophouse distilleries

Gabled farm yawns

whiskyplate famine harmony

One is sure Wycliff 

wanted to be a viking.

the false resurrection of the flesh

(..an ongoing merry dance...)

First world war was only
symbolic death

merely outward corruption

the carnage on the soul

was later

souls stolen 
from death

between and after 

wars
For if identity is 
an illusion
then death is nothing
to be afraid of.

Margaret Mcmillan

The Solemn Oak
handles with
pistol grips

Theres a dirty garage on the river Severn

very near Worcester

Where he keeps his Swans.

Never enmesh the soul
With material things,

and so too,

never imbue materials

with the seat of a soul.

But I don't want to be immortal-
Not here, anyway.
Would rather be away with the wine
in the cellar.