judder to the first step - before the word, the wind in the word; rabble speech was. In the beginning. CEOs in castles cascade in cash, silent as a cyber virus - the invisible hides cause-and-effect, stock taken, bartered in Japan - via Belarus every backyard where falls a city’s shadow looming over the last, dead chimney pot, not even the moon can empty its chamber pot of yellow, silver slops into alleyways crackling with plastic syringes, used condoms, blood trails, slewed off into a wilderness of freeways, high rise. O the dead arise in elevators nightly as Pharisees burst into the Temple. Footprints for satellites? An old game. The Mayas knew it; landforms camouflaged, star charts, airy bestiaries, eagle, lama, beastback mountain sides, white pebbled Milky Way, an ancestral footbridge. Look down or up, backward or forwards. Weirdly, rotating our options, weighing odds; caught in bristling cyberspace or a stone corbelled chamber. Either way, it’ll make you dizzy. Once is as it ever was, ever shall be: Gods walk out upon a path of stars. Is recollection seeing anew, old pieces, rearranged, seemingly? Letting go of nothing suggests: - (like) air conditioning, computer hum. Waiting for nothing. Omphalos; world-centre, mind nadir, still point about which everything revolves. God’s paper chase. Omphalos, mind’s umbilical. Stone sunk to the bottom of the lake is memory, incarnation. Mind skip back before instinct saw dark eclipse. Sky shield. Moon boss. Through vast chthonic reservoirs, horizon, swept aside. So. Earth’s most dramatic ‘bald spot’, (ozone hole) is down to 15 million sq miles over Antarctica as of Oct, 2002. Shrinkage, Big Time. One year’s reading on reduced cfcs doth not a trend make. Is this happy hour? Fewer recalcitrants maced? Hair-gel instead of hair spray? Asthmatic winds rake pebbles in dry Arctic valleys. Presidents and dictators square off. Puritanism v Tribalism. Doomsday’s a syndicated affair. Life’s Good. I wanted to reach my hand into the side of that mountain. The Romans waited, the Jews died. Made a sacrificial altar, such as Abraham had to his God. A small cave, pocketed at the base of Massada. Better death than surrender - a courageous act for living against the odds. Day by day danger renews, retribution neither diminishes nor goes away. To every Age a new generation, bigger weapons to sound the void. Your breasts in the mirror, still life of gourds. Bossed shields. The white-washed room peeled, flaked, wooden shutters opened