It is merely the Map
The data base
isn't the thing
kept track of,
unless the thing
kept track of
is data bases.
Things must still exist
somewhere.
The map isn't the world,
and a11 projections distort.
Sometimes the map must
be shown on the map.
The satellite scans
the scene, but who
scans the satellite?
Higher and higher
giddy perspectives.
And what all seeing eye
anticipates the spies?
A Modest Disclaimer
This book is me.
Maybe it will run
around the block
and meet several
of you.
That will be fine
(and fun for
eight dollars).
But please let me
go home again,
to do other chores
or just snore,
before it gets dark,
and feeble faults
are found; because
they are bound
to turn up. And it'll
cost me a scolding.
Texture
I dreamed
I was on
a winding road
thru the forest
and stopped
to feel
the texture
of a tree bark
to assure myself
I was not
dreaming.
The next day
I seemed
to remember
the night trek
under the pines
and the stars
and the
winding road,
but there was
no forest
and no road.
Not even the hedgerow!
Meditation on Wittgenstein
A philosopher
who realizes
what philosophy
is irrelevant
begins to be wise.
A linguist
who divides things
into two categories:
those that can be expressed
by words,
and those that cannot
be expressed
by words
has some insight.
Works of mercy during war,
or time as a porter
in a monastery
strengthens the argument.
If he returned, he might say:
"Let us no longer quibble
about terms and terminology."
The Orange Tree
Its blossoms are fragrant.
In summer the orange juice
of the sun
basks my bones
with delight.
Yet, in the back
of my soothed mind,
I remember quite well
freezing to death
on a cold Wisconsin night, and
teeth chattering spastically
in uncanny fright
at thunderstorms
just a while ago.
But it is good to eat.
Sometimes today is
a little better
than yesterday, and
it is to be hoped.
Autumn will come, and
the cycle will repeat,
like some bipolar disorder
in nature.
For now a palpable fruit
gives evidence
that human warmth
is a delicious treat.