Multiplastic

Light a candle for the fifteen killed on Bondi Beach, while they celebrated Hannukah with their loved ones Light another for the two on Yom Kippur, who davened at Heaton Park shül Light a third for the uncountable children of Gaza, burnt in their schools and hospital beds Light a fourth for the Nakba that has never ended Light a fifth for the generational trauma that goes back 90 years and then a thousand more Light a sixth for the Zionist lie that would make us all complicit Light a seventh for those who risk their lives to stand up and say, “Not in my name” Light an eighth that we may pray, and learn the meaning of b’tzelem Elohim even though it’s already too late Una kandelika Dos kandelikas Tres kandelikas Kuatro kandelikas Sintyu kandelikas Sej kandelikas Siete kandelikas Ocho kandelas para mi

I do not want this Gen A.I. I do not want it.   Never!   Why? I want A.I. to fill our needs I want A.I to cure disease I want A.I. to clean our streets I want A.I. to feed us, please I don’t want Copilot to write my words Or Chat GPT, because that’s absurd I want to hear music that comes from you Even if your skills are poo I don’t want to see our water all gone To cool down machines that are pointless and wrong I don’t want Gemini to steal your style I want to see art that makes me smile Because it’s created by human hands With humans fuck-ups of human plans Not plagiarised digital flop Blandly pouring out digital slop I want A.I. to map DNA Not take an artist’s living away Or make people forget their hard-earned skills Until they’re nothing but A.I shills And that is why Dr Seuss and I Say we do not want this Gen A.I.   December 2025

When love is a threat to the powerful And kindness is seen as a weakness Then sharing joy must be an act of will When bigotry is crushing the small Being an ally to those who’re oppressed Makes love become a threat to the powerful It’s possible I may have to die on this hill Once I’ve stood up to confess That I’m sharing joy as an act of my will But I need to evolve, defy cynicism still To make caring an act of resistance That turns love into a threat to the powerful But it’s hard not to gorge myself full Of anger and spite that make my soul less And so sharing joy becomes an act of will I’m waving my battle flag, maybe I’ll fall Poetry and music are my weapons of choice For sharing joy as an act of will And making love a threat to the powerful   December 2025  

Gender is always a doing, though not a doing by a subject If single identity is a delusion of the monotheistic mind Galumphing through the immaculately rambunctious and seemingly inexhaustible Gender is always a doing, though not a doing by a subject There is such little grace given to the perfect messiness of desire Since single identity is a delusion of the monotheistic mind The experience of internal conflict is one that we all know intimately This is the universal message of the clever fool.   A single identity is a delusion of the monotheistic mind There is such little grace given to the perfect messiness of desire Thus the clown leads us beyond discursive reason Gender is always a doing, though not a doing by a subject Galumphing into the immaculately rambunctious and seemingly inexhaustible Is how the clown leads us beyond discursive reason Laughing at the internal conflict we all know intimately This is the universal message of the clever fool This is the un...

In Irish we might say, Tá grá agam duit In German, maybe, ich liebe dich In Yiddish, ich hob dich lib                                                           ליב דיך האב איך In Hebrew, ani ohev otech                                                              אותך אוהב אני Ti amo in Italian, je t’aime in French In Welsh, dw i'n dy garu di And in BSL, well, I’ll show you, so you can see . . . . . . . . . . Ya tebya lyublyu is hard to say if you’re not Russian                     Я тебя люблю Similarly, wŏ ài nĭ , if you can’t do the tones                       ...