Post-Apocalyptic Poetry

Post-Apocalyptic Poetry

“To still write a poem
after Auschwitz is barbaric”
—Theodore Adorno


And yet—Holocausts
Are a dime—a dozen
Spreading—after WWII
Like a Plague—of Locusts

Barbaric times—despite
The sleek shiny—high-tech
Deceptive surface—of Brave
New World—incarnate

Hypnotized—the Media
Distracting us—Virtually

Big Brother—always wins
Phillip K. Dick—was right
A Man in the High Castle—
Post-Apocalyptic—Nazi Planet?


How else—to describe it?
The Church—the State
The Mafia—Big Business
Global Ponzi—Planet?

Death—with Interruptions
Grinding to—a sudden Halt
America—most advanced
Nation on Earth—Broke

Rich in—Technology
But too poor—for Healthcare
Rich in—Spaceship Diplomacy
But too poor—for Peace


José Saramago—returns to
Lisbon—after years of exile
Searching for—Fernando Pessoa
His heteronymic—polyvocal double

Alberto Caeiro—Alvaro de Campos
Ricardo Reis—even Hadrian appears
Mock Elizabethan—homoerotic Epic
Written—for young Antinous

This repertoire—of many Voices
Bastard Angels—of Apollo
Boss Cupids—of Walt Whitman
Pessoa’s Push—the Other

Is that why—José Saramago
Returns to Lisbon—in 1936
As Spain edges—towards
Civil War—and World War II?

On the Eve—of the Apocalypse
Saramago—the Ventriloquist
Confronts—Fernando Pessoa
The Artist—of Poetic Drag


“Here is where—the sea ends
And the earth—slowly begins”
So that today—I finally return
Like Saramago—to Lisbon

Heartache—by Cleaving it
Letting Portugal—become me
Down moody—rainy streets

My guides—Saramago & Pessoa
Their intense—polyvocal personae
Caeiro, de Campos—Ricardo Reis
Am I not—post-apocalyptic klug?

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