The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
SOUVENIERS©
FROM WALNUTS TO SANITY
progress is the product
a two lane road to San Francisco
becomes a clogged artery
past the last orchard
through the venture capital of the world
to autonomous killing machines
mountain lions forage suburbia
lone wolf violence prowls the cities
what do you believe
is worth fighting for?
people are practice targets
in a Drone video game
people are scared
people are pissed
but no one wants to spoil Christmas dinner
the weather year book is signed
with drought, forest fires
splashed with a few days of flooding and mud slides
record lows, record highs
a Spring time December
the ski slopes need a skin transplant
into the blender throw a personal transformation
easily surpassing collective turmoil
with quiet joy
a realization of the cause and cure
of insanity
which seems pervasive
our world spirals down
shredding habitats
life gasps and dwindles
torture is officially sanctioned
electric cars will save the rain forest
how can there be joy?
the dissolution of both hatred and fear of death
is a good start
that everyone has the key to this
helps
the woes of civilization can be unchosen
not by hope or faith
but by a change in one's self
which is a change to the world
SOUVENIERS
California's Gold!
the crooked end of Lombard Street
cheerful crowds arrive
a splendid view of San Francisco bay
and Coit tower
a good looking guy in jeans
hedge shears in hand
resident gardener of Lombard Street
is interviewed
before climbing up and popping out of a tree
to trim it
car after car, turn after turn
under a clear blue sky
appreciators of sculpted entries
manicured to the last brick
trees shaped like bonsais in their niches
everyone smiles
the show is enjoyable
but somehow over too soon
I think it seems incomplete
reasonably a premonition rumbles
the vault of memory yields: 1906
Disneyland
on the San Andreas fault
REGALIA
there will be a pageant of sovereignty
will I attend?
as a bird in a tree
over vast provinces
traffic jams and impossibilities
ants in a line climb the tree
and I do what comes naturally
over a gas station
it could have been someone's house
a church, a police station
and who would be to blame?
for what?
flying?
what does nature mean?
hot dogs
with onions, relish and mustard
an explanation of creeks and trolleys
good morning neighbors
a book with real pages
Tabitha purrs at the thought of that
a certain accumulation of kings and queens
the town pageant is a spring thing
very colorful
how enjoyable
this passage of translucent beings
EVERY NEW DAY
is a bitter sweet goodbye
they want higher wages
better working conditions
it's musty in there
lots of clothes I no longer wear
with some difficulty
the monsters in the closet
play recordings of my imagination
a command performance
they are sullen
the bottom line is attention
which now I don't pay
this seems fitting since after all
we've known each other so long
this will be enough to say goodbye
EQUILIBRIUM
minds particular have seized upon
the power of things
to create miracles
while missing the miracle
unaware
of lopsidedness
proud scientific achievements
prey upon each other
each focusing on itself
boldly advertising grand possibilities
while disavowing repercussions
doubtless this critique is irrational
far too broad to be taken seriously
or at least beyond experimental proof
perhaps it will pass unnoticed, unremarked
presto!
say the quantum physicists
we have done it!
in wars over things what better camouflage
than invisibility
a small effect that we'll scale up
say the enlightened ones
an experience at the root of world religions
finds its home in everyone
invisible
but not without merit
BYGONE BOOKENDS
a shuttle bus?
though not in the usual way
things usually thought about
are finally OK
our backyard, traffic on El Camino
people from day to day, climate change
neighbors
end of the world as we know it
the menu at McDonalds
or the tastes of elite eschewal
roe, puff fish, Japanese scrolls
our backyard always seems to be there
Tabitha, warm on her lawn chair in the sun
then gone with a passing cloud
the chair stays green
leaves fall
oxalis sprouts yellow flowers
rising on childlike stems
why are birds so loveable?
a skeletal leaf tracing brownish red veins
steams on the compost graveyard
the sky stands still
it all seems to be there
and be there
and be
and . . .
. . .
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_