Age of Carnivores

ly I chat with the sky mostly
I don’t want answers re love you see

and thank fuck atheists don’t find god
in corners like First & Amistad

our suicide rates are significantly higher only because statistics are unable to weigh subtler notions, such as quality of thought. Even though

falling for you
made me grasp the concept of religion

I’m Greek–
so I know nothing about depression

and my verse will not

every age is an age of carnivores

the most dangerous
animal is me, when I write poetry


poets and prostitutes have a lot
in common if you think about it
what with both unable to rent in human hell
& neither can really be touched

which is to say am I whoring my time
writing poems on this double-decker

love is in hospitals construction sites
the horizon is a topical

wound the morning clinical London intimate
like a stethoscope a bride in the river or your
zombified eyes

the moment I clock off


this will be one of my conversational poems
and I tend to dislike my conversational poems
but 4chan writes better than anyone else
I read lately, and OP is a faggot
for saying this of course

I eat loves like yours

ritually, love
is just another profession

and London this ugly familiar

like a morning taken
with vermouth, tangerines & the heat
of a body’s absence


the perk of loving a writer
is you can never lose them

what other body
survives loss
of communication, the time of passing, and
if not a body of words

but you can’t take infinity out
for a coffee, date it or what with e-books
and screens put hands around it, so

in my long night shifts I hit
Forbidden Tigers on the speakers
the customers gamble their life
Marcin makes some joke
and I think of my temerity
to live


when my 12 hour shift is over
–everyone is a poet at 6am–
it is time to edit Time
so I return.
prodigal or prodigy
from outside my flat lit by lamps of Paradise
& my soul a liturgy of emotion for the sea
the new roommates are stoned; fucking in the corridor; she moans
like Taylor Swift
I can’t stop laughing god
the other guy is frying eggs! in the kitchen dawn aloof, I
spill coffee everywhere Ken breaks into
hysterics – we laugh, this human laugh
I’m walked into
my private trance, the sky
comes at me
poems write me, always
for you



nothing much happens
other than life–

I love

and plan to buy a singing elephant
for you for your next birthday

nobody else will give you
such a universal kiss


the most magic anarchy stirs the city
after all the rain and the buses

jumping like fish into the

every car
is a verse

the velocity of your kiss
ferocious, across


the moon metronomic,
taxing my days

your love a Shawshank
without redemption

and my body of words
a tattoo on the chest;

Death, a favorite pet
that nests in my lap

for lack of other monsters
I plunder myself

my blood

the horizon’s teeth
are smoking

like gigantic cigars for Titans

somewhere out there
a stone dreams of infinity

a bird screams
in matrimony

you married air, too,

I will always choose words
over you

age of carnivores

Kandinsky – Black Lines