{Orlando}

i am orlando

breathless
at the bacchanal
bewitched, senses
submerged, my image
mirrored, my mind
magicked, my emotions
modulated
magnified
unmoderated and maybe
immodest, myself
multiplied:

masked dancer at the carnival
bald bearded lady, fashionista
beehive diva, torch song bearer of my soul
pole-dancing scientist
shop floor assistant checking out
the other side, experimenter, part-time genius
moustachioed hipster sophist nerd geek self-inventor and
bespectacled spectator
taking in, in-
haling, hailing without praise or
condemnation
participant observer, being-done-to
doer

all exposed

the pushing
to the fore, persistent rushing shoreward of
wave upon wave:
the daily deluge of disaster 

wilfully
constructed, or else
wantonly permitted to occur and then
dispersed
with breathless kick and fury
horned-up with excitement
round the clock
catastrophe porn paired with power penetration to the
brain: every
second someone selling something
a tsunami of musthave dispensables
then news again the weather breaking down ten thousand perish in a flood
security alert
three men arrested at the airport
one who fled
soft-spoken leaker of state secrets swears allegiance to
the people; people
protest
the police, the army
bullets rifles hand grenades, ex-
superpower eyeing up her neighbours’ territories, boundaries
unkept, unrecognised, rendered irrelevant
space probe touchdown on the comet, cheers and champagne at
base, break through
the tunnel, high speed trains
dark matter and dark energy
the murder of the messengers
a million on the streets in solidarity, fighters
of and for freedom feeling pain, offenders
in each other’s eyes – our
tears taste all the same

a smartphone
with an app the university that taps into the global lecture hall
a telescope array across a mountain table peering deep into the origin of
time, and
cupcakes
talent shows, made-up
realities
downloads, stolen
identities and
printed body parts
milestones in mending memories, the
tantalising likelihood that we are not alone
sandcastles made of stars, stars
made of frivolities
cat videos
and piles
and piles
of rubbish

rejects
refugees
residents of uncertainty, nomads by
adverse conditions, the
collateral of calamity
unwanted
unloved, un-
understood
disowned dishonoured dismissed dishevelled, dis-
affected
indistinct
in the morass
of mass
morbidity, in-
visible

flashes of inspiration
fascinations
colours, glitter
decadences
balls: exuberances
festivals and
congregations, close
communions
travel at the speed of sound, lightspeed
communication
instantaneous pools of
commonality
the vibe and exultation, the
euphoria
the sharpwit razor of precision, the
ingeniousness
the shared experience
the climactic joy, the
sacred orgasm of
life

..

..

i rest
i pause
i meditate, i am
orlando
i reflect

i have no solution, there are no solutions
i have no anger: anger is void, i
ease
i learn
i think
i offer

..

silence

..

i
become
the citizen
and i see sparks of wisdom and then once again i laugh
i love
i give
i take
i lose myself
i win
i love again, i want and want not and want not to want, i
realise
i am a part of it: i am
a part
of everything, every
thing
is part of me

i am the gods
i am the universe
i am the energy
i am the code
i am the probability
i am the failure and the hope and the despair
i am the triumph
of existence

that is what i am:
i
am

orlando

..

[{Orlando} was first published as part of Orlando in the Cities in A Quantum CityBirkhäuser 2015]

{Closure}

Somebody I speak to at length on a regular if not particularly frequent basis, and whose thoughts I greatly respect, not least because they are more abstract than any other thoughts I hear routinely expressed, plays through the possibility apparently inherent in a Large Hadron Collider, such as the one operated by CERN near Geneva, accidentally causing a mini black hole and thus precipitating and essentially causing the End of the World.

Instinctively, I consider the likelihood of this happening minute, but she holds my gaze a little longer than I expect, and I read from this that to her mind—and this is one of the most intelligent minds, certainly in theoretical matters, I have ever come across—the probability is not so remote as to be dismissed lightly, let alone completely.

In a philosophical sense you could argue, and I possibly would, that no probability is so remote as to ever be altogether dismissed, whether lightly or not, but I’m a little startled that of all the people in the world she should contemplate this particular portent so earnestly.

I forget—as I do most things—our conversation momentarily, but then it keeps nudging its way back into my thoughts where, far from frightening or even greatly disturbing me, it fills me with a curiously warm feeling of comfort: If the world should end, I seem to feel (rather than think, because thinking this would to my mind in turn seem counterintuitive and quite irrational), then, no matter how likely or unlikely it may be, the idea of the world ending by a picturesque lakeside near Geneva of all places strikes me as strangely appropriate and beautifully ironic. And, I should say, because of this alone, more probable (if, at this diminutive level of probability, that is still the right word) than almost anywhere else…


< Indiscretion       Entreatment >