David McLean- Three Poems

beware the hand

beware the hand that touches,
beware that smells of compassion
strangling plastic -

the eyes are not the answer,
the eyes are not the answer
the hand is

passionate plastic


 

books meaning like memory in me

books meaning like memory
are not poems, not literary
even, but a missing umbrella
for Nietzsche, sleeping
with lost gods on his pillow,
last gods and our relationship
with death, the tautest intent;

meaning is not a prayer
or a poem, values
are not heaven-sent




death and dreary corpses
 
the sun comes for the dreary corpses
to light their slimy sidewalks
with sex and death

in all their fundamental identity;
all the self-appointed gods, pondering
their dubious paternity,

the dingy drinkers of dry waters
swallowing oceans of gone gods,
assuming the burden of ghastly

absence - spirituality and brains
are strongly negatively correlated:
other things are missing them

than the heaven in their heads;
these were always the dead




David McLean is from Wales but has lived in Sweden since 1987. He lives there with partner, dogs and cats. In addition to six chapbooks, McLean is the author of three full-length poetry collections: CADAVER’S DANCE (Whistling Shade Press, 2008), PUSHING LEMMINGS (Erbacce Press, 2009), and LAUGHING AT FUNERALS (Epic Rites Press, 2010). His first novel HENRIETTA REMEMBERS is coming in 2014. More information about David McLean can be found at his blog http://mourningabortion.blogspot.com/