The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
LEAF MOULD©
GREAT EXPLICATIONS
though the way is ordinary life
ordinary parlance is not the way to express it
language was designed for something else
talk about talking makes sense
sort of
talking is banderforth
unparlance might work
words that squiggle --
bandersnatch for instance
has scooped a tunnel
so here we plunder . . .
first of AWOL, remove your phat!
it's a trivialedge fraught with pensions
the devil must pay his dews
but this deaus ex machina is treedom
its Siriusness over Brighton Beach
brings no shadows, no gain, nothing given
it rhymes with thyme and spells
like a smelling bee
and if that doesn't do it
nothing will
ODE TO LEAF MOULD
and why not, just because
it sounds good
it would be better if there was some way
to say the real thing
fancy words, plain words, rhyming words
metric palaces contorted in theories of elegance
sunflower seeds
and why not?
a paw extends into the arena
coauthor of chicken scrap fame
the sense of it is gentle
masking centuries of volcanic manes
(ooops!)
and mass extinctions celebrated in a cymbidium
the whole business rumbles along like a wheel
with one side flatted
making it out of tune
or jazz, if you please
I think that green parrots like sunflower seeds
doesn't anyone?
or the whole thing is frog void
if you prefer
say anything and that's part of it
it'll make good leaf mould
HARVEST MOON
looking for a better dawn
or magic just around the bend
seems to have run its course
what a steaming pile
becoming humus again
ATTUNEMENT
the seashore swallows arguments
leaving silence undisturbed
a bird singing through empty skies
MAD MONEY
come see the wonders of the world
magnificent achievements
for a fee
but fortunately
the need is slighter than the cash
not that anything here is so overwhelming
the wonder is so quiet
it's a mystery
surprises without announcements
joys that do not treasure themselves
GOODBYE REASONS
it was going to begin with a fender
off of a Maserati
an unlikely find at Ralph's Wreckers
or a week under the Bodhi tree
until Susan in the front yard found an avocado
unmistakably, three punctures in the skin
the mark of the squirrel
something to seem responsible for this
how delicious to have the seed
to start a tree
here in the home galaxy, inhabited by ants
and creatures of all sorts that do not dream
of driving a sports car
to give it temporary meaning -- with a missing fender
it might as well be Sunday
everything an offering
without knowing how
JOY
two or three weeks after planting
darkened with rain
topped with compost and smoothed
the planter box is truly a seed bed now
with one small sprout
that seeded itself
HOME COMING
eventually social ties are not the issue
let the hive buzz on
images are scaffolds that collapse
vectors of an unplayable tune
tumble weeds rolling in silent laughter
and the sky a vacant companion
doing nothing is the accomplishment of everything
let the world wag its tail
I extend a paw:
“Shake!”
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_