The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
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NO PRICE
a subtle breeze brings peace
to feet simmered in summer's heat
as though no wars were happening
a small electric fan
fueled by renewable arguments
is karma
a wonderment
accountable to no reasonable explanation
Tabitha at the foot of the bed
amidst random noises
her ears not moving
there are no prayer wheels here
yea
though we ride the San Andreas fault
and my staff
a pole lopper for trimming trees
is no comfort
our institutions bundle tendencies
organized in madness like redwood burls
to be sawn in slabs that resurrect
forgotten wonder
but still
the little fan that could
does
our huge air conditioner
the ocean
might override the fan
if the jet stream drops
and war keeps its market overseas
it seems a cruel interlude
incalculable and priceless
this breeze at my feet
CAMOUFLAGE
usually unfazable
Paul Deanno cracks incredulous
“Rain in August!”
a flash of truth
from behind moats and ramparts
admits he hasn't seen it all
while those who aren't on fire, flooded, hail stoned
yet
celebrate the sales
of what's left
life the way we thought it was?
what was is striking back
an accumulation of pin ball machines
and balls fall where anything can happen
who is responsible for the automatic flippers?
the land rush made rail roads king
their owners richer
history is camouflage
but weather is what it is
our goldfish tank opposite the pantry door
where I remove my boots
is in a great commotion
flipping splashing and flopping
who says fish are dumb
they know I will feed them
snapping up food
I'm reminded of august senators
MILKY WAY
fireflies are stars of a different order
inhabitants of many mansions
with screen doors and traveling sprinklers
peacocks strutting under palm trees
rabbits down worm holes
and eggs that refuse to sit upon walls
freeways in their sport of drastic murals
do not hear rabbits running
a sound relatively unrecordable
but earth skin feels them
and fire flashing metallic wings
pulsing
figments of their kin
the conflagration passes
semaphoric shouts
notes dying at sunset
ocean roar, spray, oysters
infinite in their passing
where seagulls
drop white splotches
on milky cliff side echoes
disappearing
SELF CREATION
these bird droppings are the only remains
of a flight out of nowhere
to shuffle the day's deck like a magician
and come up with a web of meanings so unparticular
as to defy precise analysis
the spiral slide at Wendy's for kids
might be apposite
or rain drops over the south bay in August
there is no time like the present
and that
is magic
ROOTS
could a stubbed toe improve civilization?
toes are definite
more or less
the foundations of civilized life
pending arguments about quantum reality ---
with the ill fated certainty of fools
defenders and anarchists speak passionately
yet monuments erected at world fairs
and idols representing invisible gods
have no more meaning than the roar of the ocean
on the other foot, though
a stubbed toe
goes a long way
towards clearing up confusion
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_