Simple Theories

  Setting the record straight, maple trees have no navel, what people quaintly call a belly button. Navels stand as a human pressure point indicating birthing process and the thought of antecedents. Such reflects an overweening concern with where time goes, if it exists at all. In contrast, maples simply startle. They proclaim the news and nuance of downtown wonderful. Well-prognosticated to beam colours at certain times, maples like to dash. Some breeds act like weeds, so humanly unproductive. No need to worry that. The factory system requires effort. The bugs know. So do the rocks amidst the striving roots. Chlorophyll must go until chlorophyll must be gone. The leaves then return to hidden colour, a meaning in tight sentencing. By then, Spring and Summer have finished beaming, and Autumn trolls the designate in language much like Keats' eye or any other sweep of field. Useful bell tones, utter sky, and scanning forward plans the document in the brightest. Let your navel contempl

  Why are people washing ashore? Dolphins may have dents such as critical hits, duct tape, an impressive spree of ignorance. The crux of affirmative action resides in a completion of earth strides in progress, future, and failing light. Just vote for nothing more please and be done. Dolphins are smart as delectable moments but lack thumbs and 401ks. Do they eat their young like we do or can they prepare the future with inviolable sass? The dolphin team lacks initiative vis-á-vis hope for future sort of shit. Dolphin is the peopling we got to replace. Nothing sticks out lastingly in the big ocean overall but we can bring shit. Shit has a permanence that poetry can't get. We like to be teammates but a show of power would be nice. Saving a swimmer with chatter fails big picture-wise. Look at the polls. We cannot fit extra people into the firmly described planet of our sounding condition. Octopus has resigned, sharks star in movies, orca outfox seals: the wave leaves us unimpressed. Mo

  Daffodils appear in jazzy faction. Their music caused the Pleiades to dance, or at least lush rain with Dionysian impact. Or just the yellow gust of immensity in the moment. Whatever clings to savor, let it reign. Daffodils strike their pose in a perfect time and meeting. No gossip, just imbuing. They make hay in the daunting time of time undaunted. Just look to the trees. And after the blossoms wear away, a new flower forms in the hidden bulb. Roots pull impressions and risings from the earth. All daffodil parts are there. Music exists as an internal hum, color becomes the breath of constancy. The new being grows in all its parts, as time will say in natural vocatives. The gleaming state fosters latent resolve. Merrie music seeds the day. And love resides in just that sweep, again the look, the eye, the sounding. Thus and therefore gangs the flower, the very flower of our day.

  Your antelope plays with deer on the home range, as noted in chronicles. They bring dust with them, a taste of air, and smiles of delight with rare discouraging word. They rove the flat open embrace of land that poets imagine, distinctly doled to the hardworking advantage. As cattle ruminate with interesting stomachs, so too the antelope, more properly known as pronghorn. That name befits the instant of yearly cycle with horn replacement. Furthermore it corrects the etymology derived from the other hemisphere, id est the relationship between the species here and there. Cattle having it so good, pronghorn will slip into the herd like you at the office, to feed and gaggle. Whereas you have no space, tho, just the instruments of labor, the pronghorn roams the spaces as space itself. The songs prove accurate, the wind whistles, so much needs telling, and the skies are not cloudy all day. Take a deep breath in your vestibule for surcharge, the pay world gives and ungives.

  Regarding Robins--a worthy endeavour and test case--each robin represents a single robin outpost. What a swell bunch! On the pecking field the wee birds spread out to their personal patch of earth. As they range about they maintain equidistance from each other. Always, tho, one oversteps the bounds, perhaps to become charismatic president or murderer. The others react as per program. Why not? A single robin instigates a land move and it must be right. United in oppositional team quadratic robin grid, they browse the traces of little god's acre. With this simple plan Robin marches about like circuit judges maintaining the prism of justice. The general run appreciate the unwritten rule--culture needs no writing--of distance from others. Thrown to the wind, caution becomes an inspiring measure for progress and self rule. Robins shimmer thru the common winter. We mean the North American robin. In truth and agreement, this creature complies with descriptions of a thrush sort of plucky