Friday, April 02, 2010

slippages / undead (2010)

of how things stand:
window display,
blood residue on pseudo-grass


bystander effect: knowing only
the known body, warding spells,
the craven info


the skin is not
on the map, acts like
it doesn’t want to be here


the text-fatigued
the soundproofed
the portable ghost-head


camouflage for dread:
rare pills (small gods)

bring blood to the tongue


riot police
slur syllables
behind the shield-wall


the forced door, systems
breached, direct sun
upon a data crypt


scared to show the volume
you carry (some sacred relic),
you will nest it in your hands

Image: 'Dead Undead' by skippytpe
(click to enlarge).


  1. Excelent poem, I really liked it. It provoked in me a strong feeling and the feeling that I have passed trough what you express.
    Take care my friend

  2. Thanks for the feedback Mariana!

  3. Stu,

    Uncanny sense of familiarity with this. The Undead fellow would barely draw notice on the streets of this fair city.

    Reminding me that the Undead probably have no wish stronger than to be Really Dead.

  4. Thanks Tom!

    The undead are about as uncanny as you can get...