ENTROPIA

Whatever is,is not.
Sure as the horse pulls the plough,
things wear out. We watch
the heat of things flow out as time
goes by. Buildings collapse, crumble away,
nothing remains but a brick.
Unborn children grow old and die, under
the shadow of the au pair,
perched on a window pane,
tattling and chewing carrots.
Nothing remains but a tale that is told.

      Two men in a bar talked about the fall
      One was Soren, the other Jean Paul.

Eventualities, linked, by Kronos and Kairos,
(linked,) two monkeys in a circus act.
(the brass belly-button of the page seeks to obscure
this tale, but it must be told, 'cause sure as)
This also is called time,
this, the elegy of Rip van Winkle,
the headless horseman riding backwards.
The future is a guillotined Miss Easypiss,
flowing into the past.

That clumsy angler, man, head a can of grey
worms, swears a reversal of principles:
order is the serendipitous  harvest of chaos sown -
stately houses, recycling projects, immortality gene.
(His name is Roger, he cures the mind.
He heats up his tea when it is cold.
"I do not like Digestives. I do.")

This also is time, chyme chiming
to the belly's rhythm.
The dialectics of multiversalism:
"the earth is a closed system, or else
a system of closures." The worlds are
bubbles in God's bath-tub, the Universe
 a great ball of akara, saara
soaked in goat milk. Bubbles.

 

DEFENDEREMOS
(For Ken Saro Wiwa and Nnimmo Bassey)
    
                                            
                                      esta tierra
                                      este aire
                                      este cielo
                                      son los nuestros
                                      defenderemos
                 -Fidel Castro


The delta weeps oil, weeps blood

The real swamp dwellers, the elfs,
wear camouflage uniforms with chevrons
on their sleeves, espousing gunpoint capitalism
at Bakalori, Bori, Brass, Odi,
where pipes turn dreams to nightmares.
(The goose is gassed that lays the golden egg,
you shall be shocked out of your shells.
Shell-shocked, Shelled.)

      All is not well that ends with
      the water in the well,
      because the oil well

The delta weeps oil, weeps blood

Fishermen cry on the river bank,
but oil magnates smile all the way
to the bank.
Sclerosed ducts, where are the tears?
The virgin face of motherland is marred with
sebum plugs. She can't talk about the rape.
Blood pipelines defy the aneurysm needle,
burst all over the riverine cortex.

Earth spirits, rigged, holding elections for the land.
The gods are not spared.

Earth-gods cannot solve the riddle of dynamite
Sky-gods choke on flared fumes
River-gods refuse the sacrifice borne on
spilt oil, spilt blood
Bloated corpses defile the face of the goddess.

The delta weeps oil, weeps blood

"My tribe is Ogoni."
"Agony," writes the recruiting officer. Caucasian.
"I am Andoni."
Again he scribbles "Agony."
"We'll get in touch with you soon.."

Newsflash: Nine Ogoni men hanged
       because their oily blood was
      part of the witchdoctor's recipe
      for a tyrant's failing liver.


II

                                   This earth is ours
                                   and the air
                                   and the sky
                                  we will defend them.

Grandpa's kettles, floating downhill
the soup ladle grew strings and
played Mexican music
(making passes at Octavio Paz)
The teapot spouted heresies
Old man river in a rocking chair
by the fireplace, where the baby jaguar
threatened with extinction plays with
cotton balls. "With these I shall
mutilate every heart that doesn't care,"
Grandma declares, brandishing knitting needles.

" Mother, they have plucked the eye of
the earth. "Pilgrims all,
but she paid him no heed,
like Time in the painting of Goya,
devouring her children.

defenderemos. defenderemos.