People like order

This is an old poem from whenever it fell out of my head (May 22, 2015 @ 07:11:23)

People like order
And yet they cause chaos.
I live in chaos, but strive for some semblance of order.

I like my blue and purple plants together in one bed.
Red orange and yellow get segregated to their own bright bed
Sedum and Thyme get to cross any paths they like.

Sunflowers belong in a fence like row,
pretend privacy with bees and beetles
Jerusalem artichokes will be my first line of defense
against the poison ivy that is all the rage
perhaps enraged is a better word

The electric company is baffled that the
usage in our house is so low.
We’re not there. Yet.
What’s not to understand?
Ghosts don’t use electricity.
Insects don’t use electricity.
Cats don’t use electricity,
but would if they had thumbs.
Grackles and Bluejays probably
get electrocuted if they peck
at the wrong electrical line.
That constitutes usage.

I don’t even know what kind of birds
I have at the new house.
I’ve been told we have coyotes
and foxes so no hen house for me
or outdoor cats. Screaming hens
probably don’t lay eggs.
I like my cats furry and alive.

I’m going to need to buy a pair of binoculars
or get my really old camera out and use
my telephoto lens so I can see
what kind of bird fun I’m in for.

The trees are so tall there I couldn’t
make out the type of bird from the
cacophony they were making. Some
random flock of black birds were moving
in unison from treetop to treetop,
then CLAP, they would startle
and swarm undulating in one mass
to the next tree over.

I had my cell phone up recording the
sounds hoping not to get pooped upon.
Do I need to fix that sentence?
Can one get pooped on?
I have a small child
so the answer is yes, but which
phrase is grammatically correct?

I went off on a tangent and
called my friend, Early Birdy
to ask about bird poop,
(no pun intended)
Somehow we got off
on a tangent, (stop laughing)
about carbonated water,
I was calling it bubbly water-
It’s still early here.
My brain misfires in the mornings
and all day long.
My therapist blames it on
my Clonazepam side effect.

I describe it as,
“You know when your mom/great grandma
is so mad at you that she calls you all
the other kids, grand kids and
great grand kids names in reverse age
order before she gets to your name,
‘Jonathan, Henry, Jakob, Sarah, Misty,
Scott, Russel, Justine, Katherine,
Rachel…Amanuensis! Come down here!’

I used to try to keep a straight face
as I came downstairs to take the
punishment for some kid, cause Mom/Grannie
didn’t know who she was really mad at anyway.
At least it seemed that way in my immature brain.
She just knew that the _________ was broken
and she found it hidden under the sink.
I wish I didn’t know anything about it, but I did.”

Anyway, Birdy and I were almost remembering
the name of that bubbly water that used to be
delivered in the forties in the old movies
I used to watch. (stop laughing,
I really like old movies.)
Seltzer water.
There.
She had to get off the phone before
I could remember, so I sent her a text
Brooklynseltzerboys delivers and Seltzersisters too.

Then I fell off the Wikipedia cliff and l
earned about the history of
carbonated water…
Joseph Priestley 1767, J. J. Schweppe 1783, Augustine Thwaites 1799…
soda water, seltzer water, table salt, sodium citrate,
sodium bicarbonate, potassium bicarbonate, potassium citrate,
potassium sulfate, or disodium phosphate followed by the
curious containers/dispensers of soda water that would sometimes
explode so they had to be contained with a wire mesh until it was
just too dangerous and that’s when I guess they encased it in metal
and let actors run around chasing people with seltzer water bottles
and spraying them as a sight gag in the reruns of movies that I grew
up on in the 1970’s and 1980’s.

Chaos reigns.

Advertisement