i. H. SapiensRodentia
Woodside fur family forest
home, we simply pass through compared
to rodents who live here.
Devicesof my youth were a bit tricky
to set but lightning work
cute little field mouses.
Newfangled glue traps are easy as pie
but slow as molasses.
I don’t mind much for big vicious rats
ifquicksand holds ‘em
particularly should my PC wife not look
next to her barelytouched
yummy melted grilled cheese sandwich
just tossed in the garbage.
280 N into Silicon Valley
before San Francisco,
morning commute stalled
at Alpine Rd off-ramp
east down toward Stanford,
platinum Tesla smartly
zips across to get back on
just past the traffic jam;
I can’t help sexist cringing
a woman out-foxed me
-- until realizing that in fact
it’s a self-driving car.
iii. Pie-eyed Detox
-- glories of
+ mui important
that you must
grok enuf sleep –
to create magical
dreams if & where
I do not wear socks.
riddled by riddles
but bolstered by
expressed or silent
belief isn’t truth
nonsense as plexus
sense and humans need
contact with the void:
toasty in a blizzard
in my humble
opinion, we can’t see
but seem to feel familiar
breaths cum groping voices.
Will our global brain
congeal one planetary
2. Trouble in Paradise:
Beverly Hills High School Class Of ’63 Listserv Snippet
“The medium is the message,” Marshall McLuhan, 1964, writing about “hot” and “cool” media
Joan: …Tees is next door to Santa Monica’s Sand and Sea where we had our Senior Ditch Day!
John: Please consider another house maybe in Beverly Hills or Brentwood rather than the beach.
Successful in electrical engineering, I really don’t want to go back where I have zilch nostalgia.
In retrospect I resent having zero friends among the hot chicks or cool surfer dudes.
Joan: I was only kidding about scheduling the Class of ‘63’s fifty-fifth high school reunion there.
Sand in my shoes, warm in the day and COLD cuddling cute boys around campfires at night!!
S and S serves the public now, but was the privately run club on the old Marion Davies property.
I loved her in Ever Since Eve.
She was the mistress of William Randolph Hearst, the yellow journalist who put her in his movies.
There was gossip about Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane – maybe the greatest flick of all time.
That she was title character’s second wife—an untalented singer whom he tries to promote.
You know, I tried to make it in Hollywood, ended up never marrying myself.
Jerry: Moving on, what’s happened up the coast ninety minutes or so in Santa Barbara County*?
I read after recent conflagrations, torrential rains are whipsawing the area with mudslides.
Jim: Kind of you to ask.
Speaking as a Vietnam vet, things are seriously FUBAR.
17 dead neighbors less than 1/4 mile to the east.
20+ more missing, several acquaintances/friends.
Military everywhere, dog teams searching a sea of muck.
100 major residences vanished down once golden mountains.
No power, no gas, no water.
Just got Internet.
Everything from San Ysidro Ranch down to Biltmore basically gone.
Montecito on total lockdown, no ingress, no egress.
101 N/S closed for 30 miles.
Supermarket shelves emptying quickly (no trucks).
Whatever you see on the news...it’s much, much worse.
Best description of the scene: a WWI battlefield…
[Online radio silence for the next 72 hours and counting.]