Incorrect

 

[Incorrect]

 

‘Prosecutor and Accused:

Unofficial Leftovers Transcript’

 

The fungi you did select

had the desired effect

-         Incorrect

 

The jury need to reflect

have they a hearing defect

-         Incorrect

 

Orange cake most delect

you did vomit to undetect

-         Incorrect

 

Cancer is not a prospect

nor have you something gastric

-         Incorrect

 

The argument you erect

flops upon close inspect

-         Incorrect

 

You are no forager elect

buzzing about like an insect

-         Is it correct …?

 

Don’t interject!

I ask the questions, direct

-         Um correct

 

Your stories are bedecked

with lies and decoys a train wreck

-         Incorrect

 

Computer records intersect

contrariwise to your recollect

-         Incorrect

 

Remorse is half-affect

care appears derelict

-         Incorrect

 

This dialogue is abject

it seems to have no object

-         Incorrect

 

Your versions don’t connect

they all just contradict

-         Incorrect

 

Mine mushroom, they are complex

they perfect what is imperfect

-         Incorrect

 

The jury must now reflect

on who gets it in the neck

-         Correct

Canary

 

[Canary]

 

“That lady of high nobility with the rich profusion of blond curls on her forehead sang like a Japanese canary in labour.” (Etty Hillesum, June 1942)

 

Of the starcrossed lovers she sings

in fallendown cities at evening

sharing last broken words

 

Of the faded glum surrealists

their prim disaster collages

ground by government jackboots

 

Of cocktail circuiteers

rounded into carriages

overcoats by house of forlorn

 

Her range has highpitched planes

incendiary no-name screams

the gap and the explosion

 

Not the composer’s precise intention

an unusual take on the words

forced or matter-of-fact

 

A yellow flame in a coalmine

she sings dressed for the occasion

a kamikaze aria in real time

 

Of sputtering in a coalmine

darkness verse seven all mine

a song in the mind long gone

 

Of a certainty it will end

the soiree of old school set pieces

pointing toward midnight

 

Of her no information available

she held the notes made the bow

and sat again to applause polite that

You

 

[You]

“Sometimes I try my hand at turning out small profundities and uncertain short stories, but I always end up with just one single word: God.” (Etty Hillesum, August 1943)

 

I haggled over existence

revelled in refutations

till the only one listening is you.

 

I was about me for too long

not seeing that everyone ever

even I belongs to you.

 

I rambled and ranted and right

when the words could not go on

come reminders of you.

 

I found myself through caring

days and weeks for others

to find myself staring at you.

 

I left hometown behind

never looking back

nowhere still there is you.

 

I had been torn in old ways

apart confused by new harms

forgetting that there is you.

 

I saw glimpses in leaves

indications in every eye

today’s small glories of you.

 

I counted every object in view

a universe of stun wonders

still alone my desire for you.

 

I wrote endlessly every minute

detail down to the minutest

to end up again with you.

 

I went for broke with words

breaking all the rules

to end up with nothing but you.