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.