Shaming Otis

[[ Something to do with presentism (and presentism) and perhaps a touch of evolution. ]]

Why don't you live in the future,

little name, little two-dimensional

photograph?

We in the future have perfected 

the morality of what you filthy

beasts call man.

We in the future -- swimming in

your prehistoric sea -- do

not get wet.

We know, as clearly you do not, 

we are much better than you are

in your place.

Meanwhile we have some chimps to kick in the teeth.

Come at me, Enos.

Come at me, Washoe.

Do you want a piece of me, Nim Chimpsky?

the song of a dove

[[ This started while reading  Ryszard Kapuściński , 'The Anatomy of a Coup d’État', in The Shadow of the Sun. ]]

A peaceful coup,

like the song of a dove,

and the man below

is the man above.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

This is your signal, 

faithful five:

take them at midnight,

take them alive.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

A coup must come at once 

from everywhere and silently.

A coup must come at once,

invisibly and deniably.

This is your signal 

at the waterfall:  

stop the five senses.

That is all.

It starts in IT 

on Saturday night.

It ends with pancakes 

at Mama's Delight.

Today is Saturday;

we live in the future.

Today is Sunday;

we live in the past.

...from everywhere and silently.

concorde on fire

here comes tomorrow

all on one page
tear gas at the border
kids in a cage

here comes tomorrow
shots across the bow
truth-tellers hacked up
but think of the Dow

here comes tomorrow
all unions are bust
rule by innuendo
bodies in the dust

this is the season
here come the bots
bow to your master
or line up your shots

your screaming only brings them nearer

midden

This is our pyramid:

sixty-two miles high

six quadrillion tons

all of it open sky

all of it open sky

This is our pyramid:

a bottle of beer

drunk and tossed away

one million years

one million years

This is our pyramid:

dinosaur, buffalo

elephant, rhino

passenger, dodo

passenger, dodo

I had an oracle

[[ It starts with a reductive yammer on life and then switches to a favorite theme of mine, Bede's sparrow. The first half is written in short chunks to be sung line by line, each almost independent of the lines before and after it. Then a shift to longer lines, slower rhythm, and all of it is the reported speech of the oracle. "She said..." ]]

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

There wasn't much,

all much the same.

We're all alike.

It's all a game.

I'll live and die,

and, in between,

be a regular guy.

Be a regular guy.

She said 

there was a sparrow

flew in one window

of a great hall,

a feast before a fire.

She said 

there was a sparrow

warm for a moment

in the fire light

and flew across the room.

She said 

there was a sparrow 

there for the moment,

that space of time,

then out another window and gone.

I had an oracle 

tell it to me:

past, present, future --

all she could see.

popular mechanics

City of the future, 

fish bowled over, 

always warm weather.

Look where someone

takes a glider

from a hanger,

and rises on air

rises on a column of air

Look where someone

takes a sail boat

from a slip

and sails on a sea

sails on an inland sea

artificial thunder,

alternate Sundays,

designated storm days 

early in the morning

daring men and women

braving the elements

city of the future,

how will we fit here?

where will we sit here?

city of the future,

what is there for us?

no one will pay us

who will pay for

these engineered dreams?

[[ this is images of the future as seen in old magazines like Popular Mechanics and Popular Science, and then wondering how real people will fit into this future ]]