This I-land offers no welcome
it does not matter whether
you’ve come from near, come from far
in good or stormy weather.
This I-land offers no welcome.

This I-land cares not of desires
so at the docks where they landed
your ships may stay, till the boards float away
(welcome to the land of the stranded).
This I-land is full of liars.

This I-land is haunted, so I hear
the land overpopulated, the ocean full
of unblinking corpses with all their teeth
but I’ve never seen another soul.
This I-land is haunted, so I fear.

This I-land tricked me once
I swear I saw in the distance
an armada of Yous slicing through uncharted waters
but I haven’t seen them since.
This I-land tricked me once.

(Just once.)



Poetic Farce

How poetic, they say
Something about gaping flesh
And an analogy
of some sort or another
Shed a tear or two for
the artist who has caught a snapshot
of the human condition in its misery
Meanwhile we will praise ourselves
for having the ability to understand
something as simple as a poem
Supposing it is easier
to understand a poem than to
understand the human condition
Yes, how poetic