Monday, July 12, 2010

Like A Bright Green Fantasy

Under a spreading chestnut tree
The village smithy stands

“The Village Blacksmith,” Longfellow

Imagine a world without any trees,
without any grass growing on the ground,
no green above or below to be found.
Gray clouds. Gray wood. Gray dust in a gray breeze.

Gray rain falls to gray puddles, sidewalk seas
reflecting gray birds flying, somewhere bound.
Gray squirrels scraping gray dead wood, gray dead sound.
This gray world the gray iron sewer grate receives.

Red, yellow, the last refuge of bright green,
traffic lights will flash while power grids hold.
Above the sewer grates cars will pass, pass, pass.

When US paper currency is clean
it’s green and will buy things until banks fold.
The last thing I’ll buy will be gas, gas, gas.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

This week my Monday and Friday
posts will sort of go together.

They’re not part one and part two of the same thing,
but they are related. A blogging kind of diptych.

I don’t know what I’ll post Tuesday, Wednesday
and Thursday. But Friday my post will be called,

“Quasi Una Petroleum Fantasia.” Yeah.


Homeopathy And The Groupie Hierarchy

Sharks In Shoes

All That’s Left Of The Atlantic Ocean

These Are The New Days

The Flat Night

Shanghai In The Epipelagic Layer

A Shadow Too Dark For Atlantis

“Perfect In His Generations”

Modern Romance In The Noir

Is This A Junkyard Church

Industrial Landscape, Industrial Decay, Jazz

Fire Maidens From Atlantis Via Russia

The Built World Before The Wrecking Crew

The Occult Technology Of Lost Songs

Ancient Cities Of The Moon

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