Sunday, 12 February 2012


The television is a cardboard box of nightmares
dreaming loudly, and in three dimensions.
It screams its colours into our heads,
puts our own thoughts in suspension.

The telephone is a plastic bone
for human dogs to chew -
it rings at too high a pitch
to make sense to you.

Cars are metal ghosts, 
possessed by poltergeists,
their phantom electric circuits humming 
and brimming with unnatural life.

Craig Raine was a Martian,
his eyes frozen ochre rock
that freakish birds with massive wings
would idly perch atop.

Humans are sacks of cells
loosely held as one,
moving in terrifying patterns
(chemical reaction + chemical reaction = love).


  1. If it helps, the television in the 50s used to be called an idiot's lantern. Could probably alter that first line to reflect that.

  2. Oh, cheers Tom. Nah, I'm not looking for oneupmanship - just emotional truth! (But 'idiot's lantern' has a nice ring to it, lol.) :P I'd like to expand it, though. Have you read A Martian Sends a Postcard Home by Craig Raine? It's kinda awesome, but it only goes so far in defamiliarising reality.