Mike Adam

Inky tentacles of
Bureaucracy
Isolate and destroy
...

With wind
Rain
Sun and freeze
...

Baby eyes
All the time

Every landscape
...

Finding a voice
Canary singing
In the mine
...

Left to themselves
People fall apart

Left alone
...

Who is it that dances through the dawn
That plays the tambourine
That drinks and loves and
Lies abandoned?
...

When the body begins to bloom
Upon the rotting compost heap,
Slow decomposition of form.
...

With quill on parchment
Scratch to me your love
My love
...

Lather me.
Shower and hose
This dirty man
...

Soft yearnings
And brooding mistakes.

Drop that sack of coal
...

Here,
At the diaphanous
Borderline
Between self
...

Nothing forced
An ease of being
Freeing up the mind.
...

Since when was one death
More important than another?

A churning bacteria
...

Undark space
Two worlds collide

Bang bang
...

Easter island head
So noble and erect?

Body hid in earth
...

From somewhere
Elegant strings plucked
Vibrate gentle waves
On perfumed air.
...

Insatiable seas
Sacrificial grave
For refugees
...

What gives them longevity

Those old paintings
Emerging from lofts
...

How can the sun
Be silent in
Univocal space
...

And I am deaf too
And too dumb to speak
Kind, loud and slow
To your yearning ear
...