11 September 2024

Four Poems by Mark Young

Count Zero
 
On a palm
frond — which
though
fallen
still hangs
 
suspended
between the
branches of
another tree —
a magpie
 
waits for
the world to
end. This
assumption of
catastrophe
 
through the
misinterpretation
of chance
events
is a condition
 
common to
many black
& white birds
as well as
to ourselves.
 
 
Amnesiac
 
He kept his balance in a
small corner of his inner
ear for days like this.
The fishing-poles are
hung with ribbons. Some
 
sort of festival, though
the catch & the crowd
are small. The faithful
wait for a miracle; but
plenty is in poor supply
 
this year due to the pesti-
cide runoff from the sugar-
cane farms that cover the
countryside. He paused to
let an ambulance go past.
 
 
Rover
 
In most of the snap-
shots brought back
with him from his
 
time on Mars, he is
seen posed against
a landscape full of
 
rock formations. He
laughs when asked if
he saw faces in them.
 
 
A line from Hans Magnus Enzensberger
 
The dialogue has broken down.
Rumors have begun to spread, be-
coming culture war fodder. A math-
ematical model tells what happens
 
when they are endlessly passed to
someone not yet made aware of them.
Now rioting crowds clamor at the
gates. How exhausting everything has
 
become, a state that will continue
while there are still a few asphodels
left or we run out of shoelaces to tie
together in order to hang ourselves.