[Sorry about this; I have a bee in my bonnet about senseless pollution and disposable goods.]
used to like the scent
of gasoline
on a warm summer day
watch it slosh around
as the guy rhythmically
pumped it up
into the glass cylinder
I’d pull on a stalk of timothy
August grasshoppers
sawing off a long hot afternoon
of childhood
no more
human rhythm gone
machines pump fuel
invisible impersonal
digits click off the price
and
cost is machines
spewing toxins for
on-time delivery
of off-shore disposable
toxic oil-derived plastics
and machines
spewing toxins for
the selfish convenience of
drive-thru pickup of
heart-stopping
fast foods
and machines
spewing toxins for
the inconceivable
indulgence of
individual commuting
through stressful
hours of grid-lock
footprints of our machines
are our footprints
A depression settled
over eastern, southern,
northern, western,
and central regions today
as weather forecasters everywhere
struck out for the umpteenth time
this season
and a bad hair day ensued.
Toast was drippy
coffee luke warm
and unseasonally bitter.
Socks will develop holes
later in the day
with ketchup on the lapel
towards evening.
Overnight we expect
restless turning
bad dreams and
a weepy start to the day tomorrow.
On the bright side
the planetary currents
had fun
behaving unexpectedly
and the sun shone
perpetually
above it all.
Pehaps Pearldrops was first
to refer to a Doctor of Dental Surgery
as a “denis”, when
the smiling girl with bright white teeth
told me
right on TV
to “see your denis”
for “whi(t)er, smoother (t)eeth”.
Recently, the makers of
Crest Pro-Health
have a TV spokeswoman
with bright white teeth
who has told me
“After brushing my (t)eeth
I feel like I’ve just been to the denis”.
It’s as if the lack of a “t” in dentist”
makes the word more acceptible
perhaps smoother, whiter, nicer.
So remember ( )o brush your ( )eeth
with a good ( )oothpas( )e
and see your den( )is( ) regularly.
I( )’s grea( ) advice!
After the grandchildren leave—
and I am certain the same was true
when their parents were their age—
our carpets, in fact,
all horizontal surfaces,
are littered—nay, saturated—
with what could be confetti,
but is more likely
small visible bits of primal goop.
I come to this
!!astounding scientific breakthrough!!
by virtue of the observation
that there seems to be no source
for this matter; to wit:
the innocent hands
are always empty and sticky,
leaving irrefutable evidence
on glass table tops, windows,
glass doors, TV screens;
the innocent faces
are always smiling and agreeable—
when not pouting, crying or screaming;
yet the primal matter
continues to appear!
ergo:
we are witnessing
an act of creation.
Theory:
as the child moves through space—
space defined as any room or universe
the child moves through—
this primal confetti
(I’m trying to keep it simple, dear reader)
forms in the string wake
of the relatively moving body
(relativity and string theory in one sentence!)
hence, the incredible amount of vacuuming
the grands do upon the departure of said
relatively moving bodies.
Thus are universes created in a vacuum.
Thus does all begin.
You can trust a child
to see with the clarity of an ant
this crumb be food
to scream at dinner and throw
beet juice at a white suit
when the universe is misaligned
Oh, that children could vote.