Dada Is My Name

Dada

is my

name

Dada is my name and my name is Dada

and I

eternalise the world with identities.

I fly and I kite and I screw

with trivial profundities, smoking

without ever smoking, without ever

being, a dada blob under your shoe

I stretch to the moon and I shrink to the earth

to beyond the tiniest atom. I climb up every wall

to display myself proper, pasting my news

as your wallpaper. I’m old but unborn

colouring every world with mixed suppers

I crave and I meditate on small mountains

abstaining myself for cool shoes. I lose

and I win daring to be sold, throwing myself

to the lowest bidder. I bing and I bop to zinga

the cran, shouting my name like its meat

Did I mention my name is Dada? Dada

is my name? I understand your martyred

caring and hope that it springs through

the air to every aired corner and planet.

Dada is my name, stop shouting in my

ear and taste the new thing beginning,

now ending, beginning, I’m DADA, I’M DADA, I'M DADA

Now time for my anti-dada moment that I share with all my named friends…

This is the T-shirt and Hoodie I wear, the poster I see on my wall: