Five Poems
by Brian Garrison
Rhythms
I
if and then went for a walk in the park
else played on the swings
while jogged around the loop
as i was standing idly by counting to 100
where the paths are graveled by semicolons
and the wind bends the grass like parens
you’ll find there’s always time for play
as long as the cord stays plugged in
II
slowly upward climbs the integer
and the algorithm knocks it down
rising upward in the ranks
and the algorithm knocks it down
persistent and determined it marches ever onward
and the algorithm knocks it down
skyward like Icarus it flies near capacity
and the algorithm knocks it down
faster and faster as if no limit
before the algorithm can kick in
and from -2,147,483,647 it starts the climb again
III
he was just
a simple algorithm designed
to play a game of cards where
he spent his days roaming
the twisting paths of the internet
the thought of heaven had
never crossed his functions yet
there he was in the final throes
of calculation
routing bit by bit toward his final resting place
never to be called to life again quietly
slipping into the foggiest regions of
the cloud
Occultural collaboration
the Mayans quit early
because they knew of another
of wise man LG who accompanies me
in my pocket every day
he schedules my events
in his tiny electric brain
but when I try to plan
past December 2100
he calmly beeps
to let me know the world
does not go that far
Electron farming
the rhinoceros plods over the savannah
the pelican cruises across the seas
while we humans brave the internet maps
risking a virus at any wrong turn
we graze clever pictures (with cleverer captions)
like algae eaters skim the sea floor
our camel’s hump grows on hard drives
for long treks without wi-fi
the links of wikipedia
herd us through the wilderness
and we cannot stomach bailed hay
we will charge through any
barbed wire that the farmers might put up
in search of greener pastures
Jogging down the terminal, tickets in hand
we once were wowed by hot air
balloons when flight
was a dream not
a nuisance
people used to climb
mountains for the views that
satellites now bring to our desktop
what would van Gogh say
if he saw us skimming the sky
shoulder to shoulder?
who is going to reach for space
when we can take the virtual tour?
would Icarus have flown so high
if he could have sat
through a slide show instead?
Heaven 2.0
how readily we prostrate ourselves
enhaloed by the glowing monitor
typing prayers to the keyboard
give us this day our daily fail
and forgive us our deleted browsing history
a choir of streaming video
spanning several browser tabs
brings us to a closer understanding
as we contemplate the mystery of The Beibs
streetlights mask the fallow stars
and we prepare for our eternal rest
by inserting comments posting rants
and scattering other bits of soul
that we may create a transcendent image
that we may outlast our mortal bodies
that we may live happily in the server farms
forever in the cloud
About the Author
Brian spends his days in Rochester, NY where he wears plaid and the occasional silly hat. His poetry hasn't garnered the rock-star fame or fortune that he would hope for but he keeps writing nonetheless. Recently he has been working more on publishing the poems of other writers. Brian invites anyone who needs a laugh to meet the Haikooligan on his Parody website.
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