The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
CLAP RAG SHUFFLE©
AMICUS BRIEF
discovery, entertainment, distraction, knowledge
banners flap in the breeze
from here on out these words are wings
before this
action and experience carried the day
we evolved
language developed thoughts
action and experience were transformed
abstracted
hallelujah
we are dolphins in the sea
riding Cassini around Saturn
viewing images almost as far removed as mathematics
leaving a certain emptiness
the nub, isn't it?
that gentle ache that follows a glorious sunset
or a spider's web glistening after rain
it's no big deal
to be what we were before language
evolution does not jettison its roots
and in light of all this
in a blaze of enlightenment
blizzards, tornadoes, floods and drought mock TV "news"
which goes only so far as what everyone can see for themselves
in light of all this
I have to say it's a nice day
sun shining here in California
in February
my work is pleasant
those who have put their attention where directed
scurry to and fro
stirring up trade to generate more profits
leaders and corporations
and here I scribble
civilization at the tip of a felt point pen
which is almost out of ink
FAITH
arrangements of the universe call for belt tightening
first one delusion, then another
gone
but then the whole emerges
a flight of birds out of fog
which hides the unforeseen
the way back home is held in trust
many days and misadventures intervene
travels continue
lighter and less encumbered
make another hole in the belt
CLEAN ROOM
a laundry room
clothes pass through
only to start over again
clean dirty, dirty clean
planets, molecules, atoms, quarks
strange garments
clothing what?
the landlord doesn't care
so long as everyone pays
underpants, omg! we are naked
where is the payment?
naked entering, naked leaving
room was empty all along
AIMLESS
ANCESTRAL FLOWERS BLOOM AGAIN
out of the usual mud
much the same
yet now
there is no fanfare
no beating drum
rivers do not leap their banks
Tabitha at the foot of the bed
bides her time
until eventually I get my pen
climbs up to the editor's pillow
Susan is slogging through a cold
I bring her some medicine
get her to eat
the weather obeys its own laws
regardless of who wants to notice
as our collective mistakes
go carefully unacknowledged
it can't be figured out
but here it is
the sun shines
too much for February
a hundred year meteor strikes Russia
again
an ill rock that blows no one good
yet think of the tourist revenue
all of this on a page
glossed with the dark side of technological miracles
the manifold stuff that cannot be digested in one gut
when a toe gets stubbed
what does its DNA say
tomorrow the back lawn will get fertilizer
in two weeks
with water from our reservoirs
it will be green
celebrate the dream
I have no grand design
other than the one that has me
I ramble on
Tabitha's tail is twitching
aimless reaches the goal
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_