An Armchair Adventure In North America
smoking a joint i sit in armchair
in North America
trying to think about it all,
trying to understand –
trying to hold the moving image of eternity
in my head –
how a planet 4&ahalf billion years old
in a galaxy 220million times
the width of our Solar System
is undergoing in the smallest little
spark flash hiccup crack
in time
a complete transformation of being, […]
Born in Wallingford with a mushroom shaped left hip, Mike Mahoney was absent from school the day the ‘Wonder Killer’ came and removed all the children’s sense of Wonder. He’s kept his ever since and fed it well. Now it seems it’s outgrown Mike’s head and notebooks and is roaming out into the world, beast-like, on four legs, flicking its tongue in the air to catch a scent. Mike bears no responsibility for any altered thoughts or elevated heart rates, expansions of consciousness, explosions of sanity or ecstasy in the frontal lobe, tightness or wetness in the groin, or any other signs or symptoms of stimulation. He’s been called “the best young poet I know on Planet Earth” (Antler) and “the uncelebrated giant of modern poetry,” (Booth) who’s “half-genius, half devil’s footman,” (Ridgwell) and “writes with the sound & fury of a dying star,” (McCreesh).
RAMINGO! 
Our planet seen from a very different perspective. It made me think of how coving 19 is rearranging our lives and not to best advantage. Like everything else in the universe we can only stop and stare.
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