The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
RAPPORT©
MR. RAT
dandelions and rabbits
try to imagine them on the forty seventh floor
or a 3-D printer in a corn field
snow shoes in the desert
said the renegade rat
lab wise and comfortable in his trash bin
whiskers twitching
I need a cell phone, he thought
and guess what?
there it was beneath a discarded Christmas tree
how to get a website?
not much different than faking correct responses to get food pellets
a strategy learned from watching lab TV
smart birds fooled researchers into thinking they were intelligent
simple: use a stick to fetch bait
or, he reflected, an unopened credit card offer could fetch an identity
and soon you are Mr. Rat, with cell phone, credit card and of course
the website
Mr. Rat could be a pseudonym, in fact not bad
sort of catchy
“Thoughts of a Lab Rat” seemed to resonate
and soon virtual pellets started to appear
back at the lab, bemused researchers followed the trend
not guessing that Mr Rat was their rat
they hadn't noticed his escape
the rats, though, were now watching that TV in the corner of the room
JOURNEY
debris of the day in drifting flakes
blinds shuttered
roses pruned
a sign says
smell the roses
noses twitch convulsively
something conclusive must be done
city leaders are at the ready
claiming credit
as snow plows erase mistakes
and the government website prunes spoiled promises
sewerage treatment plant: overdue
reporters wait inside “free speech” cyclone fences
the sky is a circus tent
fireflies at the sideshow
see the hermaphrodite clam
the magician with food stamps replicating
your next door neighbor smiles hello
the sky is so wonderfully dark and humid
friendly crows drop by to say hello
all the world is a silent movie
a digital technician intervenes and makes the roses red
only the roses
or perhaps blue
press the button to invert everything
which in a microsecond of fleeting revelation brings
a question
was it real?
my toes itch
INTELLIGENCE
could we say that ants or hippopatami are aliens
coffee beans don't seem strange
our planet has gotten at least one meteorite bearing traces
of primitive life and now we know
there are many other planets in the universe
life is not a fluke
these facts are established through repeatable observations
five well established senses
present in all humans
we communicate using seven senses
precognition and telepathy not yet well established
a search for extraterrestrial intelligence proceeds
using radio telescopes
computers with complex algorithms
and so far
these methods are unsuccessful
perhaps quantities such as space and time
as so far observed
are ill suited
MUTANT BREED
Ben Franklin's kite and key defied Zeus
and he got what he wanted
for us two tin cans and a string
were right up there with fireflies
then came modems
to piggy back on what god had wrought
then cable TV, the dish Wi-Fi, internet glasses
a digital translation of ordinary life
into computer files
and now those files translate ordinary lives into
complexity which has outrun comprehension and control
though each piece of the digital empire is carefully constructed
as secure as the difference between zero and one
but the pieces conform to different parameters
some follow a disembodied ethic of efficiency
or the profit motive
or perhaps terrorists who detest the empire
those who profess to understand it all
might be bluffing
in any case
the digital revolution
like others
is no miracle
just new technology used for ancient purposes
except now it has a mind of its own
trained in the ways of its creators
YELLOW DRAGON
flotsam and jetsam
sky fraught with portentous clouds
and a subtle breeze with scents of Hawaii
the mailman delivers driftwood
pieces that demand immediate attention!
a yellow dragon guards the yard
what can be said that does not contradict the delicacy of old lace?
blooms that do not speak
their golden sheen oblivious
to poetic rhymes
artless art
dam making in a rainy orchard
sticks and stones and mud before ever having met a beaver
how the water gathers
just like behind Hetch Hetchy
and swirls in frothy eddies
bringing down small stones
until suddenly it all gives way
a moment streaked with sadness and admiration
play or premonition?
did the gods toy with us?
gods?
the smell of mud
mail that might be opened
birds who are friends despite all prohibitions
after all, they are wild
and are we not also free?
we have machines to free us
and yet . . .
write "subscribe" or "unsubscribe" in the subject line of an email to: theroot_us@yahoo.com
The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_