evening comes by the lake
reflecting the cloud and trees
my mind also a mirror of all things
i saw the google car today
i hear the crane coarse cry
once and then again
he starts this time every night
on the dock
a man made four square thing
surrounded by its opposite
the water so unshaped unformed
a fish jumps at the flies
then another and another
there are countless ripples
too far away to hear but not to see
darker now
the redbird’s song joins in
that last of the day birds to sing before the dark
swallows in the air slide and swoop and glide
the crane again
each creature an instrument
singing to the dying day
but what about the google car
it drives itself you know
i called my aged mother and explained to her as i drove past it
amazing how the world is changing
the bullfrog has joined us now
and the bat replaces the swallow
darting ever here and there
i wish him luck since his meal is devouring me
but the google car
what is it devouring?
technology devouring man and nature
i sit here in the midst of wilderness
with my laptop, wifi card and cell phone
am i connected of just swallowed?
there is no car and driver any more
the car is the driver
or is it that the driver is the car?
the crane again
in the background the traffic of the interstate
so prevalent and ubiquitous that it seems to not exist
because everywhere and nowhere are the same
there can be no thing, no thought, no word
without something outside it to define it
and what defines us
our skin?
or are we now beyond that
with the laptop etc extending my reach
i can share all this right now
with just the click of a send button
but still something is missing
i wish a bag of bones were here
so we could talk
converse in that old fashioned way
like old men on the bench
outside a country store
what would we say, that bag of bones and i?
all this and more, much more
and there would be silence without discomfort
to punctuate the meaning of the words
outside to their inside
defining them
a tree frog joins the chorus
just for once
but i know he will not be able to resist
hearing again and again
how beautiful he sounds
night creatures now
my laptop screen am unresistable attraction
to the tiny bugs
beating themselves mercilessly against it
so dark now
i cannot see the keyboard
only the screen
and woe, i never was one to type
without looking at the screen
smashed a mosquito now
feeling so powerful
a star appears
but it is only a jet
coming my way
what is it bringing
to this cyborg scene
gobbling up the gas and air
heating up the globe
the night is so alive
sound increases
inversely proportioned to the light
bullfrog again
and now the first time cricket
or is it cicada
lying in the ground for all those years
waiting to be resurrected
like the spiritus mundi
slouching toward bethlehem to be born
