GRIST©

PROLOGUE

at the prow of my reality cutter

is a wedge of chocolate cake

awarded at commencement

from a dream scarcely recalled

wedging into a world drab by comparison

shiny frosting, it might be blue inside

neither tooth nor fork shall defile it

mere speculation, of course

it is sort of depressing to know for sure

but right outside

right now

awaits an endless muffle, gruff and rumble

truly

the one so bravely protected in this grave inoculation

has no taste for sugar

there will be time enough and again

for such antiquated gestures of good will

an ancient framework, melting clock with warped hands

and so

preceded in heraldic majesty

come one, come all

make way

endless night melds with endless day

[the curtain pure speculation now rises]

a change in the weather, blue M&Ms, disoriented sex counselors

metro strike, carmageddon, stifling smog

machines chew the earth

at night their incessant breathing

sirens, jets, garbage trucks asleep

for the moment

spider threads in darkened homes

swamp trees hawking moss

oh my, get the fire hoses ready

Mr. President

your honor

are you relevant?

call off your swamp dogs

they've lost the scent

darkened homes save electricity

making us less energy dependent

think of the floods, lightning storms and hurricanes

can anyone top that

for energy

roof top solar panels blown away

a natural rip off

there is some fundamental flaw

in the prevailing reasoning

that thinks I am a machine

plug me into the school system

upload me with facts and figures

true though they may be

and I will iterate

chewing

eating more and more

taxing sewerage plants

I decline

your honor

my inspiration is unholy

in fact it is one big hole

from within nothing I see what cannot be seen

I babble so it seems

look at it your way

I am not normal

just sane

though few, there are those who

travel the same road

pay for gas

and know that it's going up in flames

all the mansions of civilization

who remember rocks of a brook side creek

tanning in the sun

not to be confused with monks

or fearless hummingbirds

a throng actually

serious laughter

zucchini tendrils waving

unexplained explosions in the dark

neighbors with flashlights, background breathing

and no one can see blue campanula

until the garbage truck comes

sirens begin

morning is a good time for heart attacks

and for doves'

mournful cooing

have you read this

Mr. President?

I am not waiting

LOONEY TUNES

look at all the lonely cars

where are they going to?

stir fried brown rice with some onions, garlic

and et cetera

oh yeah, and some tofu

Helios heats the rising dawn

is this so different from ancient times?

four wheel cubicles crammed in transit gridmelt

windows hunkered down

heroes point to busses that will actually get there

mundane concerns eluded the ancient ones

who are not here for a transit strike

not on their way to fluorescent lights

at the work place

yo ho, heave ho!

get that line of code

remember Hammurabi!

let's be honest

forget souls stranded in a vile soup of their own making

and appreciate random perks

air conditioners still function

fried bacon, for the more heartless, is still possible

celebrate, in some macabre fashion

the light fantastic

but mosquitoes bearing West Nile virus

polluted Chinese rivers

Marxian textile slaves

North Korea's national prison

Taiko drums with an odd bell back beat

a twitching string of paper lanterns

the last throes of a hanging man

buffeted by artic winds

fried bacon will grease the skids

Titanic Challenger docking now

one giant step . . .

for ancient texts preserving wisdom

that is well . . .

ancient

the evening news, with dancing bears

peanuts and beer

a few brief shots of . . .

was that a circus tent collapsing?

officers at German death camps, listening with half closed eyes

to Jewish musicians on the eve of their extinction

this world, after all

so fleeting

weighted with accumulations of belief and debt

credited with mosquito nets, drums of any nationality

a freedom bus without flat tires

prosperity, opportunities, expansion

forever and ever

amen

PEACE ON EARTH

fourth of July and a declaration of freedom

days of oppressive heat

windows open to receive ambassadors of cool weather

evening news reports a revolution in the jet stream

unseen celebrants are heard in neighborhoods

of general excitement

a kid in Gilroy gets fifteen seconds of expensive fame

where the brown grass is tinder

"I just like to see things explode"

sandwiched between religious versus personal freedom

Supreme Justices have decided

marry the person of your choice

any citizen is OK

PBS and I have a relationship

I love lots of their programs

PBS is very fond of "viewers like you", which is me

since corporations have wrested "personhood" from the Justices

thus becoming citizens

PBS and I can claim full legal access to privileges

formerly denied to alternate people

America is great

the TV babbles on

fire crackers Snapple and pop

like breakfast cereal

which when closely auditioned

in turn

raises the question of sugar

known to blast the insulin system

contributing to diabetes

and a drain upon public funds for its treatment

in the meantime Tabitha

who over the years has learned the actual reality

now lies comfortably sprawled across my bed

not even twitching her ears

anymore

she doesn't care if things explode

though it's a matter of degree

really big bangs do rate a rousing of one ear

solving the koan about the sound

of one hand clapping

fabulations roll on and on

wandering thoughts pass by morning zazen

the TV now responds to Susan's choices

English accents

except for the silent films

which play ancient music re-imagined

on a synthesizer

how wonderful

this forest

predisposed to move in lightning flashes

fireworks

and Tabitha's ears

not twitching

AD VENTURE

idling in the heat at a stop light in Saratoga

my attention feels a tug

the billboard, picturing a swimming pool

says:

WHY NOT TAKE A BREAK

FROM HAVING IT ALL

TO ENJOY IT?

it's captive audience

poor people

having to buy a prison break

after years of virtuous self denial

tokens carefully quarantined from frivolous consumption

only to squander it in utter disregard

for the purpose of life

on Peacock Court

by apartments I maintain

a man on the sidewalk

straddle legged, stabbing the sky with his cell phone

yelling because his listener in Israel or Turkistan  --  so far away

evinced a moment of empathy

at places I visit every week

there are crow bosses

who survey

and grant my presence from specific roof tops, street lamps

sometimes hopping onto my lawn

talking all the while

or onto the street nearby

oh look, don't you see the seed?

I look but don't see it

and don't dare answer because there are normal people around

since cataract surgery I see like a kid again

and other miracles harder to describe

some of these charades are a hopeless foray into the heart of it

for those who like their whiskey neat

I have poured a shot or two

if you like a cube of ice, well . . .

it is so hot tonight I thought of getting

all the ice cubes from the freezer

putting them up on the roof

it's scientific

heat rises, cold descends

I have read Whitman

and was bombasted

sort of impressed by his grandiose scheme

of a national poem

built on a pile of leaves

not bad

rather a practical idea

death by a thousand cuts

life by lots of leaves

which of course will eventually compost

leaving the truth

a real magic trick

considering that truth

is not different from a leaf

which, if push comes to quark

escapes all attempts at definition

so here's all this truth stuff

everywhere

evoking hearty laughter

each word in service a string of cans and curses

a bill board

a swimming pool

a smile is forever

idling in the heat

QUIET VILLAGE

quiet evening light

across the street a eucalyptus tree

its limbs almost embarrassing

elegance couched in velvet green

 lingering in the heat of a day like many

yet to come

a shallow breeze questioning

relief

but tonight will do

tonight may dwell upon a promise of morning doves

deep hollow tones

tonight my throat is beaded sweat

oh perfidious

ah perspicacious

oh the place of songs without voice

or need of voice

either graveled

or grasping necessity

place your bets

measure the distance from here to elsewhere

and while the tape is stretched

miss the eucalyptus in her modesty

my mustache is also beaded

do you have one?

is it shaved?

who put it there?

a kid's nose is a landing strip

orange butterfly wings slowly folding to rest

in the key of F#

mushrooms matter

a hookah smoking caterpillar

found a perch on one

and guess what?

morning doves do sing

it's been a heat wave all along

turtles all the way down

which

if that makes sense to the erudite

still does not teach hookah lessons

FEEDING FRENZY

in a secret conference room

the focus group discusses

survival of the ruthless

management of the fearful

and rewards for the greedy

and we got here how?

the weather by degrees

has gotten out of hand

no way to dodge the sun

which continues in what used to be called heaven

in a monster traffic jam

transit workers are on strike

with a shudder, the proceedings halt

some wikirenegade has hacked a power plant

a silence of wine glasses

only the chandeliers tinkle

and on the giant screen:

NECESSITY IS THE MOTHER OF PREVENTION

lobbyists advise another course of cheese and caviar

do not rush to your limousines

the best wine is yet to come

but a waiter has leaked the leak

now rushing into the street

passions mangled for the evening news

people interrupted in their subway sandwiches

something is not quite right

here we are

all of us were chomping

jobs, prosperity, expansion

but the weather . . .

and this traffic!

there is room for just so many cars

mouths and sewerage plants

everything is overheated

too much too fast

everywhere

carmageddon

climate change

it has metastasized

maybe some chemotherapy:

electric cars

birth control

underground cities

the rogue leaker grabs the mike:

more jobs and more people

so cheaper wages

so more profits

return to GO and punch up another cycle

and each time around the money is increased by profits

calling for more expansion

ad infinitum

money feeds upon itself

chemotherapy won't cure it

even ego therapy won't work

it is a disorder of our social DNA

which can be mapped, sequenced and modified

to inhibit the need for continual expansion

DAY OF RECOGNITION

happy to report there are, indeed

blue M&Ms

they were in the trail mix Susan brought home

we win, we win!

the wheel of fortune to our east has settled

fibrillations of the jet stream come to rest

how bright the sun

keep pets and the elderly inside

OK,  so it's Saturday

in the morning I mow, trim and sweat

when the sun gets high

I stay inside and scribble

how many others cannot manage the words

heat

releasing dormant strands of scent

hidden behind memories

drifting past

wait, wait – where were you from?

the heat

driving patrons to cooling centers

bingo distraction

calm resignation in fluorescent rooms with clicking balls

grand masters of the public budget left behind

look at the sky

boundless

is that me?

of course not, say public puppeteers

splash your balls in the public fountain

your day has come and you

are gone

I cheer, I cheer

I am gone!

glad to meet you

and where were you from?