DUST DEVILS©

STATE OF THE UNION

a dried banana slice

has erased the pain of subjugation

perhaps the mower needs an oil change

the reality is

I enjoy working

writing

zazen

and doing music

what many search for

I can't say I have found

just sitting

working

playing

it seems to me that this

is a worthy goal for any civilization

the day is arduous

life replaces itself

moment by moment

civilizations built this way

are being replenished

from within

ANCESTORS

when no earthquakes happen

the seismograph trembles like a palsied finger

scratching a history of low level noise

energy concentrates in words

shading into baffles, eves and roof lines

down long horizons

almost the dust of days

and quiet memories that might be uncovered

in wordless ways

LOST AND FOUND

when words found electronic communication

barriers were transcended

ah, “now peace will come”

wartime telegraph operators

went numb

if the medium is not the message

who controls it?

who enrolls armies?

and why should anyone obey?

guns are not liver transplants

who says banks can own your money?

who enforces this?

why?

is your home a castle?

how about a low income project?

or what if money evaporates?

lots of people who were nice

have been demoted

is urban planning the answer

to dreams of infinite growth?

be fruitful

and justify the Ponzi scheme?

urban life

peace on earth

civilization

justification for entrenched elites?

SING, SING, SINGULARITY

shards and shingles of the day

a fine blue mist

tree tops fading

echoes of a typewriter caught on an eight track tape

the world is a particle accelerator

hampered by the running of the bulls

smashing stuff is the way to truth?

Higgs boson in a fun house mirror

I scratch my foot

it yells: get off my back!

I answer as reasonably as possible:

a football team?

gladiators on a field of ice?

bent backs and coolie hats tend a field of rice

where ox carts ride thimbles on a washboard

let's dance!

it beats smashing a foot ball

and such ghost map bits

uploaded almost for free on the World Wide Waterfront

in migration to everywhere at once

nothing like it

but now my toes itch

migration is insufferable

since the weather in my brain makes habitation there

untenable

how wonderful

the world beyond the web

PURR TIME

perhaps nothing can be said

of a bucket lowered down a well

coming back up empty with laughter

the potted rose with twitter bits in flitters

says it best

Tabitha perks her ears

something out there

it does not speak

who goes there?

perhaps a bucket in dripping moss

her ears after rain

perhaps a splash of memory

rippling through eternities

warp speed puzzles in wavy grass

so she gets to sit on the clip board

bite this pen

make communications with other humans difficult

well, there is so much to purr about

so she gets the last purr