The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
THE GATHERING©
WORLD DOMINATION
I am an expert
listen
everything is exploding
brain scans, privacy, gas lines, sewer pipes, software, traffic, wars, computers. terrorists, debt, rain forests, parking tickets, tornadoes, floods, snow storms, dental bills, financial theft, flat tires, bank fees
by now we're all experts
unpaid consultants:
facebook, twitter, phone users, emailers, security cameras
a captive audience:
car loans, smog checks, income taxes, lottery tickets, the evening news, unemployment checks
some experts get shut up by the corpovernment:
climate change scientists, historians, environmentalists, meterorologists
expertise is a valuable resource
denizens of the domain might appreciate
and some have made a start
considering the source
which has no stake in being understood
early morning jasmine blooms
a bird waking up
emails, politicians, bloody wars
the river flows
millennia pass
it's all in the evening news
WEATHER GROUP
macah is best
it hovers in suspended animation
just out of sight beyond the TV chair
it is not a word
it never contradicts
everyone ignores it
like the wind
until it rattles windows
and then finally sliced cheese becomes secondary
birds and buffalo are macah flow
a cascade of music falling into graveled chords
a seething pool of stringy lutes
roiling bubbles
echoing caves
windows8 will not detect it
macah is not a measure of gravity
now we're getting nowhere
exactly the point
why bother with definitions that
like international treaties
give answers to promises no one keeps
search your soul for the origin of wind
seek and ye shall find . . .
it's like the sidewalk
mostly deserted in this neighborhood
in the morning a few people walk
good for the health
sometimes cross it on the way to the front door
but who seeks what's already there?
next to the sidewalk my truck is parked
a '57 Chevy
on the driver's door of my truck it says
"the gardener"
my next door neighbor has a truck of about the same vintage
on his, in the same place, it says
"macah is best"
almost rusted to oblivion
so there you have it
the weather group
IN THE BEGINNING
slavery built civilization
civilization has not freed itself
illusions dictate law
but law does not dispel illusions
whirling tornadoes
give a vacuum cleaner its name
trademarked to prevent forgeries
what goes up goes up and up
endless, the towering ruin
a potted plant, hung from the porch eve, is witness
the better for its ignorance
humming birds near it find
succor denied
but there is no bitterness
what goes up must come down, down, down
more, more, more!
I say
speaking for the majority
all of us, and all the palm trees, are but an oasis
a mirage
lightning in the twinkling of an eye
wind shear will cancel it and send passengers to wing seat exits
but from here the view in sudden freeze frame is
spectacular
clouds that obviously do not think of rain
but only white brilliance, pressed against the window
hurriedly stuffed into the trunk
of a car parked at Trader Joe's
you know, where perhaps we met years ago on the chocolate aisle
eyes hurriedly fleeting
but that is stretching it
really, the concern was a bird there which obviously
had mistaken its place
hopping right into the front seat
chirping
pointing with its right wing, a turn signal
towards Orchard Supply where in the nursery were plants
with blue flowers
intense blue, so unbelievable
no one could believe it
and just all those people trying to look the other way
because
what if it were actually real
that a fearless bird could drive sales
not to speak of a high jacked car
an escapee from Trader Joe's Fearless Flyer
a matter that left the Sheriff flummoxed
just imagine
an aviary profit center
not just humbly begging seeds
horribly but
your pet cat ignored, forlorn, relegated to the sidelines
jaw twitching, delicious meal just out of reach
and your banker behaving the same way
life is not simple
profound people
like Plato
have said
a stone on the trail tied with rope
clearly signaling:
the end
THE AUDITION
Nepenthe by the California coast
embers in the fire pit
glow Hiroshima
a cool breeze
almost surreal
memory's golden sun a distant gull
wind chimes in a gentle fit of seething
no longer ponder green or blue
or Carmel's famous pine if teething
winds on the hillside in their breathing
sigh pungent incense
and a night hawk shifting
all the instincts of noontime spaghetti
millennia in a nutshell
are quelled
stars are emptied
startled people talking on empty benches
say that blue donkey beads are so intense
but no one is listening
the train whistle doesn't carry this far
it is truly a pebble creek
that brings no one water
the accordion man unfolds his artificial lung
preparing everyone for an expected entrance
applause falls like rain on still summer air
but still there is no train
ANYONE FOR SQUASH?
SUCH A WONDERFUL DAY IN MAY!
everyone gather round
it was ninety-four degrees in Santa Clara
here at the western pole of God's Country
as Susan has named it
we have water, electricity, Stanford University
and bargains at Smart and Final
in Oklahoma there was a monster mile wide tornado
our State weather expert argues
there is no drought in our neighborhood
yet
reservoirs are full from early season record rains
former Governor Richardson of Arizona suggests
the end of lawns, maybe even swimming pools
and the best part:
weatherman Paul on Channel Five could not smile
in spite of the heat I went ahead with record trimming jobs
the natural result of all that rain
and felt fatigued but better
since the heat melts arthritic pains
how could one ask for a better day?
NORM'S HIDEOUT
edges of the bell curve are sonorous
at the top, a monotone
at the flare, dissonant tones are a polyrhythm
places of discovery
perhaps unprofitable
hard to catch
perhaps the future of civilization
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_