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Interview

Written by James Hamilton
Published Mon 02/04/07
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the ceiling fan and its captive audience,
a small distance between.
in intervals,
there’s alpha-waves; closed circuits;
cold pulsations at the
cathode end.

so i’ll be
twiddler of thumbs
for both of us;

left counting the fractions
of my interviewer’s features,
amounting to naught but the
skullshape
zero
worn smartly all over; the latest fashion
in computer programming.

that satisfied disapproval,
(yes, yes. suitably inept. let me
introduce you to the door, sir).

~

who would have thought
for one such as this -

(a cancellation
wrapped in an orchid-flower
or the asylum’s soiled sheets),

- that this intimate apocalypse,
cipher
or secret message
would be in the braille of
cobbled streets,
planetary bodies
and
pixels?

but of course, (of course!)
such illusory runes
merely play muse
to a madman’s
thoughts.

(and by and by
this
ebon expiration)

James Hamilton