I'm a Blind Spot
deep in December;
my head putting on a face

Slavoj Žižek says
that when you look inside your skull,
there is nobody home;
just a Slab of Meat

I'm enacting the side-effects
of alleged individuality;
a Persona
that is a put-on, put on

You & I are put-ons put on

A Wildflower and a Raging War
have the same unimportance,
the same weightlessness
in the Great Go-Away

I stray along the Songlines
of my Dreamtime Walkabout,
swinging my Bull-Roarer

Found Objects & Readymades
team up with Jackdaws & Ravens,
Bardo by Bardo

I unwrite Invisible Poems
in the Darkness of Black Stars

There is No One;
my poems thud
against the Haushofer Walls
of the Long Last

Avalokithesvara & Kuan-yin
sit with me in my burning boat