The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_
FRACTAL DIMENSIONS©
BRIAR PATCH
the daisy chain begins with a mall shooting
security cameras capture the failure of their euphemistic purpose
the reality is that the videos have inspired copy cat perpetrators
unintended consequences
how the system works
discovered after the fact
and in fact the system mocks its designers
who thought it was all designed by them
when its complexity took fractal dimensions
reproducing in ways unimagined until seen
this is not as simple as dams and bridges
more like snails and cows
hay bales carted short distances
and pathways through vales
leading to villages which of course
are the ancestors of malls
where pythons are not seen
and stuffed birds are not seen either
or like Ouija boards strewn with poker chips
redeemable for a side order of fries
which might be too thin
only the English know how to do fish and chips
perhaps poker chips are too raw for refined taste
rather
an elephant safari discussed in royal atmospheres
or the origins of Darwin
finches and turtles all the way down
but daisies are the origin
as any school girl knows:
he loves me
or not
a quarky mystery to be solved by plectrums
and let us not discuss pythons
or the origins of Freud
who smoked cigars and inspired stuff like the hidden persuaders
used to sell cars
which anyone can drive to Lover's Point
and stare
briefly
over a cliff
like the Grand Canyon
which almost rhymes with crayons
which are sometimes used to depict it
staring leads to vertigo
and that is not acceptable in polite society
a stonewall cliff
threatening death by pythons
somewhat of an exaggeration
but nonetheless the next link in a chain
which starts with a precipitous fall
and on the way down
a strawberry plucked is
ah, how delicious!
NOODLES
the juniper is unaware of a drought
so long as water flows from the hose
lawns are watered
and all is well
until the well runs dry
but Katrina brings a painful recollection
of way too much water
bleeding insurance companies dry
worse than the BP oil spill
connect the dots
then came hurricane Sandy
worse still
not quite a dot
now our driest start to “winter” ever recorded
heating bills are slightly lower
red wine at Trader Joe's is no longer
two buck Chuck
something out of kilter
and next comes Haiyan
killing ten thousand people in the Philippines
the worst storm in recorded history
perhaps there is a pattern?
not to exaggerate
but the morning sky is beautiful
fog clearing to sunshine, seventy five degrees
somehow a memory of green uniformed cadets
in Monterey
walking beneath cypress trees
history is not enough
recollection is not prevention
in fact misleading
fire drills and earthquake kits
--propaganda--
palliatives for claim expense reduction
against angry skies
I scream, you scream, we all scream
for ice cream
your dollar is your vote
change the world
how many votes can you afford
when your ballot includes
candidates for bread, milk and eggs
isn't tampering with votes unpatriotic?
the next big thing will be anti-gravity
remember when Dick Tracy watches were science fiction
maybe too fantastic yet and way off the subject
which is what?
techno-wizards are now developing 3-D cameras
that drive 3-D printers
that turn a picture of you into a sculpture
is that far out or what?
pose for posterity
which, however, might melt you down for scrap
to reduce landfill and recycle valuable resources
needed for wars and football stadiums
on landfills
where walls get mouldy
sick buildings
heroes on the run
good earth becoming a sick mother
tube worms writhing undersea
a huge satellite has run out of power
pretty soon will come crashing down to earth
don't ask where, exactly, or when
but it was announced last night on ABC News
chunks of it as big as a reporter
could fall in your yard
odds of being hit:
about the same as winning the national lottery
which is vaguely comforting
until recalling the woman who hit several jackpots
buying tickets at her local convenience store
unbelievable odds
eh, what?
Tabitha watches
as the pen squiggles
ELEGY
once upon a time in days of poetry
beauty was beheld
listen to the tale
it begins on Blossom Hill Road in the Santa Clara valley
summer heat, cutting cots, architectural drawing forgotten
escape on an agricultural worker's bus
to strawberry fields forever
aching back
better than bad grades or a beating
next an Air Force flight to Japan
blinking pachinko machines
friendly whores
strange music
Kirin beer
return flight off loading at Lockheed Missiles and Space Division
a civilian
watching an oscilloscope
testing squib monitors, flight control computers
flight . . .
to San Jose City College
AA in English
+
microwave radio relay repairman
=
technical writer
transplanted back into Silicon Valley
with antirejection humanities and assimilators
that failed
blasted into psychedelic space
with mescaline, blue cubes and dope
boosted into orbit
crashed
then the dark early morning hours
zazen stark and lonely
endless
oblivious of hills and valleys
one morning popping like a zit
silence becoming yet another morning
unburdened
in the company of neighbors, family, cats and bees
even politicians
the landscape of trees and rivers
pocked with effluent of an ancient virus
the "me" disease
everyone seems to have it
immortality the impossible hope
validating atrocities which
leveraged by technology
promise extinction
spoils to the karmic masters
all bow to our dear leaders
as the whole enterprise finally collapses
leaving a radioactive signature
and the world settles back
to volcanic origins once again
in the dark early morning hours
PRELUDE
the juniper is greening
an elevator shaft is suddenly discovered on Wood Duck Court
disregarding all expectations
ideas disintegrating in last minute cheers
echoes descending
no second string replacements
no mourners
a certain comfort
not to be jerked about like a puppet on a string
nothing lost or won
no triumphal parade
weather rhymes with clothes washer
a rhythmical thing
so we are on safe ground here
Tabitha is asleep
WHAT IT IS
as the climate changes
old conflicts accelerate
so enjoyable this pitted date
today was nice
sunny, seventy degrees, again
phone alert:
Spare the Air Day
grand themes should prevail here
but where are they?
forgotten
saving something . . .
oh yes, sentient beings!
there are no beings
no pits
the postman still delivers mail
oh, saving money for old age!
that would get some interest, if it were interesting
whatever is supposed to matter
does not seem to
a slow discovery of chords
populated with notes no script will ever capture
does
unlikely to be heard by an audience
since the technology for sequencing it
belongs to incomprehensible geeks
no matter
music translates from within
the sounds of water
pouring for tea
are from a forest creek
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The Gardener
Santa Clara, CA 95051
theroot_