The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
IMPERSONAL PORTRAIT© ZIGZAG RHYTHM
leaves of the day settle down for a nap
tides in a kettle
flowers folding prayerful petals
the gut sense of it all
and breakfast can wait
until our star, the main player
comes back on stage
the sky erupts in lightning
a silent tic grows louder
till thunder casts Sunday off its perch
West Coast magic is a tumbling megaspeaker
a rock concert living up to its name
Highway 1 becomes history
sand paintings warned frogs and lizards
until a breeze blew them all away
it reappeared in a store next to the gas station
just as the winning ticket was sold
and forgotten
I wonder about the laws of sleep
but they escape in the act of being investigated
quantum outlaws that appear on the other side of a window
when no one is looking
it is so delicious that perhaps
turning on the radio will be too much seasoning
after all, preparing food from basic ingredients
outflanks preservatives, additives, MSG
my shoes hurt
corporations that make them have determined
my size is unprofitable
I will email Mike Honda that corporate "personhood"
must be unlegislated
maybe it's not very zen to be thinking about this stuff
you know, eat when hungry
when tired sleep
so simple
so it's all my fault
I like to trim hedges and maintain my equipment
and write stuff
oh, the big bugaboo
purity
that's pretty simple too
every morning just sit there
no words, no nothing
just the origin
then the incense winks out
lightning, stadiums, flu shots, nuclear missiles
it all smells rather different
murder, corruption, burning flesh
steaks
the other side of literature ends up
here
arms flailing
tendrils of a dying coral reef
not gently
not raging
but the gut sense of a long Spring's night
leaves fluttering
FLOWERS OVER THERE
morning zebras sleeping
lazy heads will miss the quilted fog
the circus is under wraps
a sign says
SEE THE MOTHERLESS BABY
but it's just too early
thankfully my '57 Chevy truck fires up on the first hit
still no one on the street
it stutters for a bit, clears its throat, smooths out almost to a purr
off we go to the first account, one block away
there is no accounting for magic
we get there
no cause for amazement
though it simmers in volcanic cauldrons
full appreciation must await the chickens
no one speaks
no one is there
there is no one to think
just doing
work shades into returning tools
cats
and neighborhood birds
though they are in danger
gather to see me back
cooking dinner, chopping vegetables
not much different than work
just chopping
how good it is
with miso, fish and tofu
bad weather turbulates across eastern states
while here in California
clear air and pleasant weather are the rule
making politics a comic book
after dinner
evening sun
an onshore breeze
in a sudden shift falls quiet as I sit
energy of the day propels two ducks speeding high
and the quiet has its say
eves of the neighbor's house, painted white
are a shadow play
leaves the principal players
a ballet of silent reign
fluttering together
a flow of ripples
BUSINESS AS USUAL
on the way to Bank of the West
traveling El Camino
at the corner of Scotts Boulevard
an arrow jabs the sky
nothing unusual
then goes horizontal in a wild circle
even the pigeons take notice
a young adman has escaped all restraint
flaunting his sign with passionate abandon
flying oblivious to compensation
no one can read his burden because it has been lifted
flailing, flying, forgotten and forgiven
by zombies floating by who hardly notice
but who would have paid good money if his employer were
Barnum & Bailey
and there were real elephants at Walmart
and the Taiko drums and all
with BBQ smoke rising to a clear sky
flea market days and all the outriggers of civilization
the bank teller recognizes me and smiles
THE YIN YANG
take sand, for instance
how is it comfortable?
sometimes in public places but rarely in private ones
beach or buttocks
a conflict of interests
or take comfortable
or leave it
the whole issue is subject to hot air
which blows in drifts
leaving dunes
which are uncomfortable and hard to move
so perhaps the sand itself is of interest
sand consists of many small crystals
sharp sided little things that are not irreducible
each crystal is made of atoms
which in turn boil down to quarks
and other strange things Ph.D.s argue about
big bang, dark matter, dark energy, strings that travel
through the Science Queen's imagination
so it's Memorial Day
flags wave, people weep, trumpets blow taps
and I applaud with laughter
the end of insanity is here
war is over
we have all died and gone nowhere
what, no more wars? what will we do?
please don't say it's all right here
take sand, for instance
FLIGHT OF THE HUMMINGBIRD
broccoli for breakfast
Doctor Livingstone, I presume
ate it
or its relative from a forest floor
and thereupon declared
Kellog's corn flakes are the way to unlimited energy
then the TVs went dark
finally the last drop of fossil fuel
all the birds in our neighborhood fluttered and chirped
but wait!
for what?
don't forget our offer!
and it was . . .
every business in Silicon Valley, every home, hospital, library, apartment building, parking garage, school
solar panels! for free!
all those wasted rooftops converted to leaf tops
silicon leafs
Silicon Valley Power in truth, in deed
but who would pay?
criminals
but aren't they in jail?
no, they profit from jails, run them and what they call
the economy
and their derivative gurus, who engineered the collapse . . .
Shut up!
those Ponzi profiteers owe everyone, not
the other way round
put criminals where they belong, take back stolen assets
outdate fossil fuel, take the climate back . . .
Shut up! Shut up!
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_