THE COMPOST BIRD©
CLEAR WATER
without the slightest breeze
thoughts disappear over the horizon
ancient relatives lose their way
row, row
says the Queen
time is transparent
bright skies says
a cheery weather man:
our sponsors predict business as usual
tomorrow we'll have a normal day
the day's events pass uneventfully
neither celebrations nor laments
neither earned nor accidental:
equanimity
but then again:
Katrina
BP gulf gusher
Sandy
wild morning glory
on the garden gate
child of galaxies
LET THERE BE SILENCE
a pause of the curtain, in folds
silence
not to insist, but
the desert springs
yellow blooms
and then . . .
Ah, we agree
eons intervene
yet still
children laugh
birds sing
our clothes washer overflows
the stop light traffic catcher
gathers lint
where now?
voices of the baker in his Marxist morning
a pall of smoke
freedom is shouted, blasted
blunderbuss at shoulder height
the blood of trees is shed
for potash
silicone is etched
for integrated circuits
God and Country
Profit Almighty
and for the Queen!
nobility:
work is demeaning
shed blood as you will, some of us
are much better
grey silicone blood
flows in quantum spurts
of statistical uncertainty
it's late now
entertainment in the air
screams
the Inquisition, Patriot Act
voices of ancient ancestors
but now
silence enfolds
do you remember that first date?
red blackberry juice
revolutionary ardor
a clash of symbols
get comfortable with
tilapia in the Salton Sea
tapping on shores
the silence --
a single drop
waiting for the other shoe
please laugh
it's all we have left in the face of
NOW
or was that too stark? now?
after all
crickets still chirp
there will be a pause
please enjoy this cup of tea
green mountains beckon
the sea
is eternal
and the clothes washer ---
our cats avoid it
perhaps they sense tsunamis
are we senseless?
insisting on scented underwear
let there be red blackberry juice
it will stun our dream
with
Ah, let's see . . .
POWER TRUMPS PROFIT
the compost bird returned today
we had a conversation
when profit is the most important product
and the powers that be buy it
the planet and all its creatures
are barbequed
wars are juicy
let there be no mistake
this will end
with everyone's fat in the fire
those who shelter in bunkers
will have their just desserts
and who will mourn?
The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time
in silence:
at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of his mouth
and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.
"Who are YOU?' said the Caterpillar.
