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 . . .