MOSAIC (a mortality poem)

Code book compass

charting ways to dead ends.


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Is this Room 101?

Sorry, my mistake,

got the wrong key from hotel reception.


Ego, ECG, MOT.

Low level hum disruptors.


Hospital garment design unglamorous.

Who would do such a thing?


Big events:

You didn’t know what to wear

so you wore it all.

You didn’t know how to live

so you lived it all.


Quiet life?

Come, bail me out.

Everyone is busy

finishing off weekend jigsaws.

Will they coalesce caring

around another box?


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Room 101?

Sorry, my mistake,

got the wrong key from Matron.


Good vibes only, please?

Good vibes only, please?


  1. I would rather die for love,

but I haven’t yet.

  1. Squander yourself

in every direction.

  1. Paint pictures

by numbers.


What’s death? What’s next?

What’s distance?


You live, you die.

It’s not complex.


Everyone has a Judgement day.

Life comes at random prices.


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Room 101?

Sorry, my mistake,

got the wrong key from Devil deception.


The Grim Reaper makes rules up as it goes along.

Give Fallen-Angel-Door-staff, the day off.

Dress code?

Come as you are.


New parts for old, please?

Plastic lasts longer.

Change everything?

Keep the same heart.


*

Scared of Obeah?

Scared of being?

Shy bairns get nowt.

If your yams are white, cover them up.

People say the same codes

all over the globe.


We chastise –

Our kids in Chic

Wafer-thin white coats,

sole-free canvas shoes.


We remember

putting on practical wax jackets.


When we are gone,

will we still care

how cold

the wind blows?


Fever:

Friends and fiends disappointing; dissipated.

Matriarch says no moping; got to go out.

New clothes for old.

Be ladylike.

Whatever that means?


Fog follows.

‘The wobble’ is not a dance craze.

Us against nature.

Dimensions change, please?


Measure steps, hollow legs.

Scoop out putrefying gloop.

  1. Don’t bother with keys.
  2. Don’t bother with sleep.
  3. Don’t bother with dreams.

*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Rooms are full of liars,

wielding electrodes.


Fragments?

Puzzle pieces numbered?

  1. One less day
  2. One less argument
  3. Fight back
  4. One less horseman
  5. One less [me + you]

Inappropriate clothing for the final event:

1980s puffed sleeves?

Never coming back in style,

but snoods are!


Is that because,

in every era,

people wonder

how cold the wind blows?


Interlude or anecdote?

TV: tennis, cricket, soccer?

The sport of life? Dive.

Con the ref. Man Utd Fergie time.


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Rooms are full of liars

with truthful eyes.


One less? We have one more?

Have we lost the ability to count the days?


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Every body who comes

can’t go with you.


Jettison

Release

Liberate

Unfetter


That is why

we are:

Different in the little moments.

Same in the big moments.


A mosaic is made up of broken pieces of a life

It is still a beautiful thing, a work of art.


*

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  1. Whatever poem I have to recite.
  2. Whatever song I have to sing.
  3. Whatever code I have to break.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

  1. Whichever room I have to enter

to

drag

you

out

for

one

more

day.

Last Song of The Universe