bAlls

Cool. Far out, man. God. Right on. Country. Beauty – the eye of the beholder, sanity is a fashion accessory. Reality is a free for all.

None of the above applies to my relations with doves and squirrels in the yard. Humans are something else.

Zen in the art of writing, Ray Bradbury wrote, means gathering likely material, sleeping on it, waking the next morning to harvest the results. Without coaching or prospecting for a book, this works anyway. You get something unexpected, not on schedule, no frills, and have to come up with an interpretation.:

pitch vinegar

pine lorry

?

A precognitive experience, likewise, disturbs science:

which nails present events

predicting what will happen

under what conditions

with what follow on effects

but suppose

some future event crosses the great divide

and predicts what will happen

before it gets nailed

science balks

reciting the second law of thermodynamics

* * *

a gathering of eyeballs rolls up

with paparazzi pollsters in tow

asking, has anything changed

anything fundamental?

straight towards the brim of my hat

two birds zoom in

it depends on air conditioning

and the river people in town

are talking

the birds startle and squawk

LOUDLY

whirling on tail feathers

and streak off through a tree by the fence

the eyeballs shift uneasily

beer and peanuts haven't changed much

but lines are getting longer

the traffic

people asking stupid questions

they're going to lose the scent when we cross the

  river

then the delta

and don't forget

we have this opioid mess, very expensive

migrations

walls

what just happened?

here on the Kindle delta

was it a warning, a foiled attack?

just setting up for NPR

nonchalant, the paparazzi shift to

our water project, let's compare:

the supply doesn't change

but the demand, more and more people ~

do the math

eyeballs with four inches of forehead consider ~

being abstruse is almost magical

fantastic, mind blowing, exponential

(a pollster is toking up and passes round the joint)

SO! he exhales

The Ministry of Truth, man

says this stuff is the square root of negative one

can you dig it?

and you can believe whatever they say

the eyeballs are getting watery

leaders, gods, clapping hands, shaking heads,

  wagging fingers

hover over red buttons

it's The Fake Reality Show, how

can people do such things

mass shootings

suicides

sir! the water pumps are overheating

but considering the forest fires are not burning

  here

not in my backyard

prime time is an oxymoron

a Uranus orbiter navigating worm holes and dark

  matter

discussions with neighbors

pollsters banging every door, ads, sirens, new

  construction

seeing what's unseen, I see what everyone sees

and avoid visions brought by reality seekers

whatever is said

I'll be polite

a wet bird does not . . .

is not

a sign of one for the road

toad

ever which way the road not taken

goes by a grain elevator

standing tall, and there --

artificial intelligence is gulping brains

bulking up to rear the progeny

quantum computers

dude

are you game?

did the bird of paradise

eat your face?

it shits radioactive waste

are you content

there is a real serious strain

on our imagination

that in my case contained Mr. Finch and Lady

  Hummingbird

losing consistency and now

hobgoblins are gnashing teeth

laughter through the void

or a containment of fused hydrogen

will be enough

I declare it

to eliminate slavery

to praise machines that do the work, but not too

  much

having produced machines that we think can think

slavery is not just ending next week

but common cause calls for common sense even

fewer people

as math tends illogic in order to function

even as math and science need each other

and so that water does not flow uphill

except when logic spits back

and so to grow we need our world in symbiosis

water projects respecting deltas, estuaries, rivers

  and streams

doves, people, fish beyond the limits of logic, black

is beautiful and white, yellow, tan and from our

  international space station

now we can actually see it's one earth

***

the sun is lowering its shades

on my table a visitor has arrived

in these last nearly horizontal rays

miniscule crumbs are blazing pinpoints of fire

the light warms us

and the brushing back of wings

carefully over and over

is an enjoyment

a shadow flits over

he flies away