As
Ursula Le-
Guin once wrote

the word for
world is
forest.
an on-going series of poems inspired by the great Belgian painter
Two nights ago, on the
TV news, vision of dust
storms in the dry center
of the continent, sweeping
pinkly towards the sea.
Now they have reached
it, & brought some solid
stuff along as well. The
bird is puzzled by it all.
He's au fait with classical
physics; but quantum
theory is a stone too far.
I am releasing My Oil of Joy
over you. Things are in
our favor this year. Sugary
sweet with a little tang.
The resource becomes scarce.
Solar panels can only take
energy capture so far. The
bezels are much smaller
than those on many phones.
Literal rivers can cross the
dimensions. Mimic what they're
trying to build. Source code
or keyboard input is displayed
as entered. The filmroll is eight
pixels taller than in the other
versions. The harvest is done.
Not how I would have
preferred to spend
my time. But when The
World asks you to
take a turn around
the lawn after lunch
how can you turn
the invitation down.
Forwent the siesta ex-
pecting insight &
the exposition of an
ideal set of corporate
goals. Instead subjected
to an egotistical list
of mergers, takeovers,
strategic alliances, &
plays that have no
other purpose than
an exercise of
personal power. So sad
to find The World is
just another business
that is run by men.
The man is the night-
light left on to make the
dark seem less fright-
ening. He is outlining
a way through or, may-
be, a way out. All it
takes is an oversized
horse's bell; is used as
balance, needs a granite
block wall to rest upon.
*
The hills stretch away
in rows, into the blue,
each row a different
degree of darkness, on
one of which, neither
fore- nor background,
sits a chateau. It is the
only man-made thing
contained within the
Museum of the King —
though doubt has been
cast upon the pro-
venance of the nose.
FiveFour
unicorns. One
died in the
making of
this piece
of the poem.
*
Later he read
to her. She
listened
in braille. A
unicorn caught
its horn in
the holes
on the page
& broke its
neck trying
to get free.
*
No primer, so
eventually
the beta
carotene bled
through the
whitewash. Nothing
so sad as a
donkey with
a carrot on its
head at a 75º
angle while
its dick
hangs limp.
*
One
unicorn left.
One unique horn.
*
In & of it-
self unaugmented; but
the box it comes
in is quite decorative.
&, anyway, there is
always something
striking about
a dead unicorn.
The stillness of death
ranges over this vast
plain. I am at a cross-
road in my contiguous
physical map; any
therapy seems only
to have adverse effects.
The shape of the time
interval is less recogniz-
able, imposes limitations
on the raster & vector
datasets already open for
business just across the
street from the condo
development. 95% of
all cats will become
ecstatically attached to
any thing hollow or over-
hanging. Whole kernel
corn right out of the
can is a treat for catfish.