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Copyright Jordan Davis.


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wThursday, June 15, 2006



The arms race under the moon
And over the window

Has placed a stone under the tree
Rabbits visit one at a time

Stay a while now
And as you stoop to look closer
Crush these herbs in the grass

The grey and green afternoon


So much of human stupidity
Obtains to fear of being typecast

All I want is to build a robot
To climb inside of
And take over your world


Once inside the cell wall
The virus becomes a factory
For producing more viruses

These then set forth
To take over more cells

Some viruses resemble
Nothing so much
As microscopic robots


The rabbi has a sense of humor
Do not make him reveal it


I don't know why your pants are ruined
I don't know why is his attitude toward me
I don't know why I am still alive
I don't know why you say goodbye
I don't know why I didn't come
I don't know why this woman was arguing with the police at the ticket window
I don't know why I was targeted
I don't know why I still store this stuff in my head
I don't know why you brought steam into this
I don't know why you don't want me
I don't know why I need a blog
I don't know why Nintendo's new controller will be so great
I don't know why your women aren't satisfied
I don't know why the sky is so blue I'm bored and
I don't know why
I don't know why everyone is so high on experience
I don't know why it happen or how it happen or when
I don't know why you're talking about Sweden
I don't know why with me everything takes so long
I don't know why I love you
I don't know why I get this error


The volume, turn down the volume
I can't bear to hear this
He won and he's going to say he lost

He thinks he's going to win by losing

I don't mind watching
But I have to have some room
To dissociate

He could be saying
"My name is Fluffy!"
"Attached document scanned for malware"

He could be saying
He was briefed on this outcome June the year before

He could be saying
It is our duty as citizens
To accept the will of the people

In fact I would bet money on it
Money with his face on it
I'd put money on his face
Cover the screen with money

And then go forage
For what I don't know

[This poem was funded in part by a grant from Nada Gordon]

posted by Jordan #