Chicken

Silence gives birth to silence
One shadow under God indivisible
With many mouths, and no one speaking
Many tongues twisted and curled
The cosmic egg is delivered, cracked
Someone hears the tree falling (it made a sound)
In the soulless forest and screams to all the neighboring pines
Then claps with one hand faster than light
The child stares down at his dinner plate and asks,
“What is chicken made out of?”

Thankful

It’s Thanksgiving Eve, a good time to reflect. Things I am thankful for:

*A decent job--I might not be rich, but it keeps food on the table

*The ability to go see a doctor--it might cost too much, but there are millions of people in the world who can’t go at all

*A healthy mind and body--alright, not like they were when I was 25, but hanging in there

*Religious freedom--in a world where countless millions are persecuted for what they believe

*A house--when many good people are being forced out of them

*Supermarkets, department stores, and credit cards--considering that so many people in the world don’t have these conveniences

*A loving family--people to come home to every day and night.

I Can Hold You

Child, I trace your features
As if I never knew a nose
Your eyes are lit like stars
That lead me through an open door

But I can hold you no more
Than I can hold the rain
Watch it trickle through my fingers
Watch it settle on the floor

Child, your hair of feathers
Beckons me to fly away
I would soar above this misery
Leave the ashes where I stay

But I can hold you no more
Than I can hold the sea
Watch it fall into the void and
Watch it wash all over me

Child, your feet are fragile
And your arms confused with wings
But I am far too fettered
To feel weightless like these things

I can hold you no more
Than I can hold the sky
Watch it empty out the universe
Watch it hold me until I

Can hold you no more

Something

There was something moving
In the carpet
Something creeping
In my drink
Something squealing
In the phone line
Just as fast as
I could think
Something blinking
In the skyline
Something over-
Taking time
Something squirting
Words from lemons
Something doing
Awful crimes
Something crawling
In the linen
Something running
Through my mind
Something stolen
From a distant
Planet on some
Borderline

With Our Minds and Hands

How the landscape has changed
Now this technological marvel
Has dwarfed all the peaks we knew

I used to paint with my eyes
Hands like butterflies
Floating on the horizon

I could hold it and read it
A story to keep
Taking me out to sea

There is too much to take in
Through motherboard and screen
And the ether of hope that surrounds us

The stomach of this colossus growls
As its chrome crashes parties
On the moon

With our minds and our hands
We made so much more
Than any of this software can create

Incorporation

No interference from this ubiquitous giant
though you feel the shadow everywhere
from moment of awakening under coconut tree
to dusk under the sheltering golden arch
whether homeless or aristocrat
carry your card he won’t question you
but he will swipe it