Meaningless treaties
In the end the blast kills all
Butterflies rejoice
Chagall 2019
I don’t care if you are left or right – both sides suck.
Tag Archive: Gaia
I’m vaccinated
No little bugs inside me
Nature will prevail
Chagall 2019
A pinball plunger is pulled
torque builds tension, drives a blue planet hurtling
Yet to achieve status quo
but already we are dying
What a sad lot
done but barely begun
Expansion wraps
central stars implode
planets light up
critical mass
the multiverse shifts
orbits combine
new suns enjoy
15 minutes of fame
We are domino
tip us watch the long ripple
beget life everywhere
a taper to kindle
We are seeds
oh, how testy we are
Chagall 2015/2018
The bird on the holly bush
Low to the ground singing
to elders in alder branches
From your vantage, do you see hope?
Show me then, where to fly
Pray, please guide me
Chagall 2017
i return to my device and the word application asks
want to save? implying my previous work unsaved,
i reply Yes for i trust my earlier self enough
to have made some excellent changes
Chagall 2017
Today, I witnessed and sensed a small bird’s fear
to have a red-shouldered hawk alight
upon an adjacent branch
Chagall 2017
if you and i were hummingbirds
you would never alight at the feeder
but instead would draw nectar pulsing midair wildly
frenetic and i would simply perch, sip, occasionally peek
over our shoulders
to the jet stream, my dear?
© Chagall ∞
Every year around this time witnesses the return of
the cicada killer wasps: their sole purpose in life is
to fight, even to die, in the war against cicada.
They land their bodies on my hot pavers, the straight-away
between the porches is a landing field for sassy doughboys,
chewing gum, sun in their eyes, alive another day.
I get out the hose and assist them in training, parrying
with sprinkler and jet and soaker settings, preparing them for
aerial bug-fight, cicadas are fierce opponents
with an innate understanding of prime numbers.
I had a huge party this weekend and I gathered the cicada killer wasps
around and I told them it was the front of the house for the rest of the day
and they listened. That night while packing up the tent and the chairs
they came back and settled into their usual spot. The leader,
oddly one of the youngest, came over and said, “You miss everybody,
i can tell,” hovered a moment and then flew off to the shade of the boxwoods.
© Chagall ∞
In my backyard, the sunlight that shines there
is mine.
© Chagall ∞
Find a hill, a dimple of land, lie down,
wedge your cheek into the hollow
of rich organic debris, breathe
deeply the years of the regolith
beneath you, grind your pelvis
to bedrock, mold to gravity’s
pull, feel yourself ride
the earth, Gaia ’round
and around
Wheeee! See!
We’re falling!
© Chagall ∞
Alphabet City 