Wednesday, March 20, 2013

bad haiku for the theory of the vernal equinox

it is a kind of
joke, the idea that spring
will emerge from the

tough, hard ground, that the
tyrannical winter will
be driven from the

landscape by the mere
fact of science, a turning
world that for millions

of years has forecast
this sameness, this fate. after
all, arizona

says it's equal, all:
evolution, god, matters
of academic

opinion now.  of
course, of course. this must be what
einstein meant when he

meandered into
relativity.  theory,
right?  one word, taken

righteously out of
context and suddenly the
force which holds humans

to crust holds as much
pull–ha!–as intelligent
falling and along

with humans, not long
ago, the dinosaurs roamed
a landscape that must

have looked a lot like
today's first day of spring: cold,
so perfect for big

reptiles. i had big
plans for spring, a lottery
win among them, more

vodka, perhaps more
hope–an accompaniment
to the bulbs that push

against the falling
in an intelligent way,
but now i wonder:

what's the point? now this
winter is everlasting,
ever present; new

never wondrous place,
a diff'rent kind of climate
change.  sure, the crocus

will try to change a
few minds, but all that glitters
ain't old.  hey hey.  my

my. looks like rocks and
roles are legislated to
die. dark matters, true–

but what is truth? the
old answer, beauty, doesn't
hold when reason is

beholden to all
anthropocentrism that
dances on the head

of a pin.  spring's dance
is curtailed forever now
by a kind of cold

without kindness, chill
that no amount of global
warming can belie.

sure, the crocus–small,
bright against the snow, vernal
persistence, once a

speck of hope, one sign
of the world renewed, but...this
winter is the world.

and the drip drip drip
isn't merely the icemelt
falling from the roof.


  1. Replies
    1. Nice shout-out to The Onion, too (intelligent falling).

  2. This so perfectly captures the despair of realizing that what matters most is so often at the mercy of what matters least, big ideas reduced to the rubble of the same.

  3. When do we get a GLG book of haiku for purchase?

  4. Oh, my. It's "The Wasteland" for the 21st-century American academic/thinking person. Amazing. But they are getting darker, Greta, which makes me worry. I do hope there's a bright spot somewhere, if not in the croci, then in family or friends or pets or planned vacation or. . .something.

    I, too, would buy a book of poetry. I fear, however, that, given academic salaries, the sales wouldn't add up to quite the same as the proceeds of a winning lottery ticket (well, at least not the jackpot kind; we might equal one of the scratch-off prizes).

    P.S. The Creation Museum (in KY) appears to be located not far from where some of my ancestors simultaneously worshiped God (and, in at least one case, served as a pastor) and claimed other human beings as property. I'm aware that the northern states were by no means innocent of such practices, but still, it seems like there might be a common root (i.e. less than thoughtful/self-serving readings of the Bible). I suppose the better analogy in that case might be the embrace of capitalism as supposedly "Christian" (very, very hard to support via any means of Biblical interpretation with which I'm familiar), but it all seems to cohere somehow. . . .

  5. @ Greta: Maybe it's "bad haiku" in the sense that it's not about a brief, natural moment revealing a truth, but Greta, these stopped being "bad" long ago. You've taken science, satire, politics and a rock anthem and made art. Thank you.

    @ Cassandra: yes, yes, and very interesting.


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