And now come the trapeze endowments
Filaments of an invisible thread that landed suddenly
Snapdragons that speak
In their own terms, not to be understood
But physically arranged in harmonies
A brick with its imported frog
A magic grinding stone
remnants of a river long gone and its flows
dykes and landings where barrels rolled
rusted red eye rivets
charred staves and jungle parrots
screaming
vines of scarlet Bougainvillea with Elegant Women
steaming, rolling on the river
big wheel churning and gambler Jack at the green
roulette table
stride piano – yes!
old guy stuff that's youth with no tomorrow
the flying trapeze, parrots screaming, gold coins rippling, riffling octaves
eight to the sand bar
then the eye of the hurricane
silence without meaning
before it fell off its stool
a red brick
the small concrete frog
found in a forgotten corner and salvaged in its old guy value
white concrete, worthless
paint weathered in years beyond any trace
bone survivor now in its grainy shape
the orange tree fence frog croakless sphinx
its unseen terms of reality an agenda always on
operating in the wholeness
it always is
the project rises
in its own terms
backyard jungle steaming
dove parrots playing mime seed wars on robins
smoke filtered air filling summer's drought disaster
the Mobile Weather Lab, Paul Deanno's Change
reporting reality on location
Big Bee sucking in lavender honey
god's country, Birdland, Santa Clara
Silicon Electron Valley with its brand new stadium
pumping, pumping fiat dollars, traffic, green house gasses, the
forgotten agenda
Voter's Choice 2016: Stop The Endless Wars!
hood zephyr of my '57 Chevy truck
salvaged from Palo Alto's city dump in early Gardener days
its crazed green plastic wings
now lifting up a large blue translucent marble
out of snapdragons
and the ornament adapted with a bit of sprinkler pipe
fitted with a hose spigot
sending glorious laughter aloft and heard
by those with eyes to
-- yes!
and a photograph
