Poyem (vii)

vii

Let’s do this: eschatology uplifts
scatology; kairotic tweaks erotic.
Things wildly merge, commit in rush to judgement.
Stick this under your tongue and wait for razzle-
dazzle, slow-kindling Heraclitean fire
not all-consuming, as it is the all, and
everlasting.

Envision the last court in disarray,
submerged in pettinesses; the upright
Recording Angel overwhelmed with parchment,
each tort a fractal of recrimination.
At far-end justice trickles from a spigot,
distilled and perfectly translucent liquor /
lethal moonshine.

Or render judgement binary decision,
flash of incineration which preserves
only what tends to rightfulness, all else
being reduced to scoria, that lump
of pumice there your hardened and habitual
fragility, your wilful ignorance all
blown to ashes.

Creation is recovering its senses,
in fields and rivers new intelligence
adrift or ambling in unsettled pattern.
Judgement steals into things, unseating habit,
upending tables. Safes are made for breaking
from within, by force of ineluctable
anagnorisis.