the actual pingpong of the abyss

continuity in question
nothing can be
trusted to be
what it once
seemed.

Empty supermarkets
not even trying
to keep people out
what clerks still
with jobs standing
around aimlessly
the shop steward
out of work.

Saltwater crocodiles
as if the sharks
aren’t bad
enough
primordial
conservation
of energy.

Battery powered
paperweights
sitting idly in
the evaporating
cloud. Where
do the electrons
go when they are
no longer needed
as messengers?
It’s a rhetorical
question. It’s the
primordial
conservation
of energy
still. It is only
we who attribute
particular value
to certain
structures
and behaviors
of particles.
That’s OK.
That’s as it
has been it
being what
it is isn’t it?
But that doesn’t
mean that it
needs always
to be any
particular
what it is
that it is.
It turns out
we can’t
presume
that it won’t
change.
It isn’t what
it was. It is
what it wasn’t.

Congestive
heart failure
on a global
scale. All
systems
going.

Spiritual vacuum.

meta table of contents        
to the wiki pages
of existence seen
through the lens
of the self my
self my facet
on the face of
the jewel
of being.

So my disambiguating
cross reference to to
to what?
All my aspects?
That would be
the ideal.
But there’d
have to be a
members only
section right?

That would be
good I can
see it now.
Wiki cross
referencing
wikis
disambiguation
galore made
possible by
the cleverness
of technology
and the
technology
of cleverness
organizing
and facilitating
information
and its access
at all levels
of privilege
according
to username
until the
power goes

of one million species
in the next 42 years.
That’s one species
every 22 minutes
two point seven
every hour.

I’m walking my
not often enough
five mile walk
around a portion
of the perimeter
of the town
where I live.

A Monterey Pine
lopped off at
about 30 feet
stiffs I call them.
A pile of segments
at its base the
three foot chunks
are riddled with
woodpecker
acorn stashes.

Three miles of
my walk is along
the shore of the
Pacific Ocean and
the Monterey Bay.

Gray overcast day
hardly a horizon
on the water.

Someone drives
too close to me
golf greens mower
tractor droning in
the distance
seagulls squalling
joggers jogging
yellow jacketed
cyclist laboring
uphill. “You know I
feel better than I have
all this week”—two
women barreling
downhill on their
mountain bikes.
Walkers walking.
More cyclists—a nice
little old lady in a
black outfit with
a silver helmet
pedals slowly by.
She nods and says
“Good morning.”

Surfers surfing
probably not
aware of the two
Great White Shark
fatalities over
the years that
bookend the ocean
and bay portion of
my walk. Ignorance
isn’t bliss it’s just
ignorance. Ignore-
ance. Bliss is
something else.

A string of pelicans
cruising low over
the water.
Parked cars
people getting
in and out.
Motor boats waking
the water probably
on their way
to catch fish.
Houses being remodeled
houses being built.
Skillsaw shrieking.
Contractor pickup truck
pulling up to disgorge
a balding man in a
hawaiian shirt crossing
the road toward the sound.
Seven pickup trucks
within a 75-foot radius.
A roofing supply flat
bed truck drives by.

A police car drives by.

Copper colored
Chevrolet Corvette
chain saws and
woodchippers
whining and
hacking.

The Pace Arrow
mobile home with
all the bumper
stickers and peace
decals is parked
in its usual place.
Now it has purple
hand-written slogans
elaborating its message:
All Life Is Sacred.

I walked for an hour
and 45 minutes.
Four point seven
two five species
went extinct.