War Lost in the Database

lemme go dear lemme go dear lemme go

to the

war lost in the database, bedlam bedlam obfuscation: can’t imagine such perplex of quarter-million soldiers, vehicles, personnel to distant shores, track all units, slim error-margin, planes bomb cities don’t exist, did not exist before the raids, so many times recalled mid-mission scream confusion-blood cities mistaken alive, obliteration neither scheduled nor planned, more paperwork investigation disarray…


…if holidays surveyed by cops in hats will not relax you,
nothing will.

In circuitry we’re wireless amazed, and though together in
the sweet by-and-by, the creative hole between us,
wide as a whale’s cervix, is expanding…

lemme go dear lemme go dear lemme go

I’ve logged my time, I owe you nothing.

Some critics have called Yizhak Maplebury “a poet of no small importance.” Others have called him “a small poet of no importance.” Little is known about Maplebury as he exists beyond the page. Unproven rumors have abounded that he was (and perhaps still is) a notorious gang-land/CIA hit-man, code-named, “The Egghead,” whose method of dispensing “justice” (for those who pay – him – unto those who most egregiously fail to pay the ones who pay -- him) inspired fear in the hearts of even the most jaded power-brokers on the world information/money market. The notorious NYC mobster, Boss Parcheesi, for instance, was mysteriously abducted from the locked vault he'd had himself sealed into, only to be found, what remained of him at any rate, in a New Orleans tobacco store, in a tin of what an unsuspecting, quite obviously horrified, customer had assumed, upon purchase, was a can of vacuum-packed, safety-sealed, fine Virginia pipe-tobacco. Again, these allegations are unproven. Anyway, what does it matter what Maplebury did – or does – to earn his “living?” We modern readers are not concerned with the life of the artist, but the value of the work... Read other articles by Yitzhak.