Tagged: the Humans
The Earth Two
when a child picks up something
delicate she often crushes it
or pulls it off the tree
her hand
may as well be
a tube to the brain
the insides of worm
and aloe vera
upward
each first contact
a benevolent ownership
so nothing bad will happen
no, because I
will put it back
such confidence
the minnow, the grape-like
clutch of frog eggs
especially the flower
how do you explain
what is alive?
once we killed savages
I find myself saying
if you leave it, it
will get bigger
as in
there will be
more of it for you
“..finding a second Earth is not a matter of if, but when.”
-Thomas Zurbuchen, NASA’s Science Mission Directorate
Cain
the first person lives
who will be 1000
as once, the first person
to enter space
was alive
born of that starry substance
to be returned
as once
the first woman
who would
circumnavigate the world
and the first man
who would fly, both
heels
over head
and the first person
who would
sit atop
the animal
how odd
that must
have been
when suddenly the
other animals
failed
to recognize either
and were consumed
like the first person
who would kill
another. how tight
will he squeeze
her finger
how strong
could he be alive
somewhere
the first to rule, the first
with more
than he needs
and who needs more
as once
the first child was born
who would leave
its mother
where does one go
if not
to new people
new family
there would have been
no one
Maya
human animal awareness
peaks
at the edge
of physical boundary
such as
out of the woods
& into a clearing
or reverse of that
into greens
that when mixed together
appear black
some have thorns
so they all might
some are oily
& poisonous, so
they all might be
we appear on a hill
at the edge
of a cliff, below which
a river
beyond which
the stone shaved
clean
by wind
membranes of
cities, the towers
neck tied
& black of dress
the first doorway
opened
& the first pen
an absence
a finger slick with berries
the first wall a raft
possibly
a door
or
the green wall
of medicine &
fibrous material
fruits
& soft bedding
The Ancient Reptilians
every dinosaur book starts out
a long long time ago, or
before
there were buildings, cars
before the trees were gone (once
when they had never been)
before
the leaves were different
and as gluttonous drinkers of sun
they stood, broad faced and brachial
before
their necks. maybe we say instead
instead there were dinosaurs
very unlike cartoon dinosaurs, who
before
becoming huge and terrible
could fit in the palm of your hand
their woodpecker hearts bled in
before
receding, flooding again the plains
of their limbs to move. they’d tense in
vegetation, wary of their own feathers
before
in agitation, taking flight
this is before and during the
beginning of time
before
enough collective damage
had been done to call it the past
before there were roads
before
the whispering of animals into rooms
of our dwelling. be it houses, clothes
as fire eats the air
before
air has had enough and shoos it
when at once it has always been
like the ground to a foot in a shoe
before
the biggest thing on Earth was God
App Ideas
A man
who saw
where my dog
went
adopt
A star
or endangered cat
or grandchild
maker
Nap
injector
suppressed
memory
vibrator
the complete
“Who started it?”
Fossil record
Apology ID
by state, sound,
breast color
Land
Delineator
A game
where Player 1 has
a question
and Player 2 must respond
using only words
Monday to
Sunday
translator
Push-notifications
for grim historical
Precedents
brain storage app
called
Compartments
a tone to let
ideas down
gently. one for hope
that doubles
as alarm
the social bubble
floor
planner
lens
through which
a house appears
gold
The Need to See, and Be Seen, Both
A group of hikers stare in the distance
as something stalks, then pounces, then
comes away empty handed, or clawed, or
pawed. Someone asks, “Is that a lynx?”
But the group says, “No. No no, no.”
The question curls in a path around them,
often over more trying terrain, as if there is
a distance their recognition can reach, an
actual discernible radius. The hikers wear
bright vests and glittery bear-bells. They
strain their eyes. Finally one of them says,
with real authority, “Oh, III see what it is.”
The others say, “Ya. Ya ya, ya.”
People Near a Fire
A woman sings without breathing mask
in all this smoke
She covers Wagon Wheel
and smoke covers the mountains
A crowd of people gather. They dance
as though someone
has just completed
a successful surgery, or a birth
and small green shrubs have popped up
from the fires before. 2003, 2010. They seem
to run back and forth like children
between challenges
What challenges me? A guy lights his cigarette
and his girlfriend gets on him
He says I need it to be myself
while we’re here!
I’m standing alone for the same reason
You’re off in the market, carrying
my bucket of water. It seems impossible
that I should be able to cry now
smoke like a grey wool pillow, pink
bandana around my face, but I am. Something
about the altitude, my solitude, a mixture
of short air and of people, how
I love you, how I look like a bandit
how I love to see your ideas
nesting in burnt trees like eagles
I see how people continue to dance
long after the woman has lost her voice
how when you look closely, you can see
where new life
has been pulled out of old life
Fish Gardens
those fish were caught by men
with their feet in water
those fish were caught by men
with their feet on land
in the middle, a couple of babies
pose for their wedding pictures
her dress is lumpy, leguminous
like it is actually cauliflower
his has a pocket for his phone
everything outside their body
is light. literal, actual light
light is decided upon in the brain
the brain is a folded leaf
this is can turn into anything
imagine we are fish swimming
in a man made water system
never have the edges to things
been more clear
Petrify
still caught up
in how we felt
about it earlier
the rarest stone
a person’s mind
being changed
I just planted seeds
in the garden. it is
snap pea, an easy seed
in a way I am checking
the earth’s pulse
I sit with it
having hope, but
waiting for it
I worry that thoughts
rarely occur
that aren’t hardening
the old ones
As a Species
Happy the end all?
Happy is just one end
of a flailing ribbon
we all jump toward
hoping to grab anywhere
I see that many people
try to keep their happiness
These are the people
you see floating around
at the high point
of their jumps, perfectly level
feet not touching
the ground. They are
lifted by our
assumptions. And strung
along like lights
against the ribbon
It’s like we can’t
shut it off, this little bit
of not enough, all
the time. So why try?
We are seductively long
genetics. And
never staying happy
is the reason
we have survived
