Fast Day 190 January 22 2011 {Planet Seeds}

Planet Seeds

I packed alphabet and seeds in my carry-on bag.

I think it will get past security; living letters,

breathing smooth scaled animal:

made up of 26 thoraces, gossiping

panting tough little bugs

I am taking with me, escaping

to an M-class exo-polanet.

I look up at the moon and it

beckons like a kid taking cuts

in the NASA waiting line.

I shall free them upon the slopes of Olympus Mons

then scatter wide the living seeds

I brought with me from earth:

germination and pollination

no longer blind like Gaza camels

colliding at one water hole.

Like pirates, we'll lust for Quito gold...

and set sail to Jupiter's maelstrom-

Living a life of rumor on islands

adrift in methane atmosphere!

--

I am disappointed that this ended. I shall go back to it frequently now. The idea is terra-forming new "worlds" within our lives.

Olympus Mons  is "Mount Olympus" and the largest volcano on Mars, or in the solar system as far as we know.

Jupiter's maelstrom is The Great Red Spot.

Escape, Rebirth, Joy of Childhood Revisited.......

Fast Day 167 August 12 2010 {What'll I Tell the Widow?}

Rain

What'll I Tell The Widow ?

The hay burned in the fields that year, beaten down
by the oven of the wind; I stood stock still
by the Rattle Run which was
hardly a trickle in August.
Danny looked at me like queer,
but I just throw my Johnny Deere cap down,
and said nothing until he drove over
left his motor runnin'
I could not hear him but I saw his lips
movin' , and I said "Enough".
He cup his hand to his head,
like he can't hear, so I make a universal
translate "turn the friggin' engine off" sign.
and when I could hear my heart beatin' in my ears
I said "Enough".
It took a century to walk out of that field,
leavin' Danny with the two tractors,
him gaping at me,
smoke and sun
But he took off at a trot
caught up with me in ten years
sayin' "You know, there's nothing out there.
The worlds end at Palms Road and Chick's Barbeque..."
where the yawning gap between our dreams
came to an end in aught-8, leaving me
a Mad Max with ethanol
a girl friend with 4 kids
widowed twice at 24
the Widow Greer she was
and her breath was hotter'n this wind.
Ah, what a future we had had !
We used to dream of crop circles
I went on walkin'
He yelled "Hey!... ... Hey!
What'll I tell the Widow?"
I ponder, "It's a hard rain falls..."


----
climate change poem