Wednesday, August 18, 2004

(7 sonnets) Unless ye become like little children ... or BUNNIES! {smile}



{ACS.091_02} into the frame to dig a hole -- a gap
{ACS.091_03} in all our preconceptions. Put a stop
{ACS.091_04} to same ol' same ol' -- ev'ry mindless trap ...

{ACS.091_05} ... society has caught us in so far.
{ACS.091_06} Yes, by the time we're grownups, it's too late.
{ACS.091_07} The marketeers can peg us by what car
{ACS.091_08} we drive. The wheels have turned

and locked our fate.

{ACS.091_09} BUT BUNNIES have the power to roll back
{ACS.091_10} the years and leave us childlike -- open to
{ACS.091_11} IMAGINATION unconstrained -- untrack
{ACS.091_12} the well-trod pathways, planting grass anew.

{ACS.091_13} The Bunnies of the Revolution seed
{ACS.091_14} spots where it looks like everybody's peed.

{ACS.092_01} THE NECESSARY ANGEL flys above
{ACS.092_02} this story to protect the bunnies from
{ACS.092_03} concocted lines that sleepy writers love
{ACS.092_04} but in the morning understand are dumb.

{ACS.092_05} Like those a few lines back that she'll let pass
{ACS.092_06} "this time," but she makes clear
"those are the last."
{ACS.092_07} The writer smiles and promises more class.
{ACS.092_08} MEANWHILE: The Bunnies have
installed the mast ...

{ACS.092_09} ... on their time-travel sailboat and don't care
{ACS.092_10} if silly words fall from the writer's pen
{ACS.092_11} as long as he does not make bunnies wear
{ACS.092_12} a thong or stove-pipe hat, 'cause it's a sin ...

{ACS.092_13} ... to make a bunny put on clothes at all
{ACS.092_14} (except for shirts-and-skins in basketball).

{ACS.093_01} If you are wondering how AmCan fits
{ACS.093_02} within this Bunny tale... Hell, I don't know.
{ACS.093_03} But trust The Bunnies, they have sharper wits
{ACS.093_04} than you and I about the overthrow ...

{ACS.093_05} ... of same ol' same ol' -- And I have to say
{ACS.093_06} without them I think AmCan's been talked out.
{ACS.093_07} The Bunnies have been known to save the day
{ACS.093_08} by digging up a whole new other route.

{ACS.093_09} And do not ask me how they learned to sail.
{ACS.093_10} It never pays to argue with the course
{ACS.093_11} The Bunnies take -- or some gigantic whale
{ACS.093_12} The Bunnies trained will swallow you and force ...

{ACS.093_13} ... you to spend time escaping from that fish.
{ACS.093_14} But not before you've grown a tail to swish.

{ACS.094_02} their sailboat on New Island -- ring a bell
{ACS.094_03} to summon you to Bunny School. The sand
{ACS.094_04} is warm between your toes.
Your toenails smell ...

{ACS.094_05} ... like carrots, cause The Bunnies
think that's cool.
{ACS.094_06} THE NECESSARY ANGEL lifts her brows
{ACS.094_07} but smiles -- she knows the writer's just a tool
{ACS.094_08} of God and Bunnies and of purple cows, ...

{ACS.094_09} ... but that's another story set on Mars
{ACS.094_10} for some time in the future, so return
{ACS.094_11} your smell-like-carrot feet back from the stars
{ACS.094_12} to New Isle Bunny School where all you learn ...

{ACS.094_13} ... is to write sonnets 'till you fin'lly see
{ACS.094_14} that nothing is the way it has to be.

{ACS.095_01} THE BUNNIES KNOW THAT, without
writing verse,
{ACS.095_02} but since we are not born with bunny ears
{ACS.095_03} that only hear the truth, we bear the curse
{ACS.095_04} of falling for all bullshit that one hears.

{ACS.095_05} THE BUNNIES run across the sand to wipe
{ACS.095_06} all traces of the steps you took to reach
{ACS.095_07} The Bunny School -- erase each stereotype
{ACS.095_08} of same ol' same ol' so that you can teach ...

{ACS.095_09} ... yourself to think again.
The blackboard's clean.
{ACS.095_10} "What is a president?" somebody scrawls.
{ACS.095_11} You hear a whisper:
"What does that word mean?"
{ACS.095_12} "A 'president'"? "No 'is'," Bill Clinton drawls.

{ACS.095_13} THE ANGEL stamps her feet. The writer winks.
{ACS.095_14} He has to go where'er the rhyming links.

{ACS.096_01} George Stephanopoulos says "I forgot."
{ACS.096_02} James Carville sticks his pinky in his belt:
{ACS.096_03} "Aw hell, this country boy will take a shot."
{ACS.096_04} But nothing in his life has ever felt ...

{ACS.096_05} ... as strange as having his tongue just sit still.
{ACS.096_06} While RJ's camera captures his blank looks,
{ACS.096_08} the lights on this quiet scene.
As pudding cooks ...

{ACS.096_09} ... in their bright kitchen on a TV stage.
{ACS.096_10} Iron Chef is racing them to match their sweet
{ACS.096_11} concoction with his own as they all wage
{ACS.096_12} a culinary battle to defeat ...

{ACS.096_13} ... attention deficit of folks at home
{ACS.096_14} who we'll soon teleport to ancient Rome.

{ACS.097_01} BY NOW, you know that Cicero's confused
{ACS.097_02} why you are on his terrace with no clue
{ACS.097_03} of who you are or how you may have cruised
{ACS.097_04} through time or what you'd like for him to do.

{ACS.097_05} There's bunnies on the sundial playing tag
{ACS.097_06} with shadows in slow motion -- you now feel
{ACS.097_07} this has to be a dream. How could you wag
{ACS.097_08} your tail like that? Oh what a tasty meal ...

{ACS.097_09} ... the pudding makes when served
out on the deck
{ACS.097_10} of some Aegean sailboat passing by.
{ACS.097_11} A broken-blog technician says, "Oh heck!
{ACS.097_12} What did you do to make our system die?"

{ACS.097_13} I answer, "seven sonnets must get done."
{ACS.097_14} Then ask him, "what's a president?" for fun.

# # #



is partly the discipline

to not stop playing.