the robiox

mail order farm bride

she sat down at the wide plank table with it many empty chairs
her work boots by the door still dripped from the morning chores
the fire stoked up to take chill off the icy emptiness
the coffee pot steaming its deep dark satisfaction
the pad of paper, the ready pen
the many things that could not possibly be said

she started:

wanted
woman wants another
sexy hardworking compassionate strong ethical rascal

Nanojamb's Dance Party

Hello!
Welome!

I have changed this blog (nanojamb) to invitation only.

Song back on to celebrate! They can't get in anymore so the lyrics don't make much sense same goes if you didn't read about Austrian no gmo's/

anyway it's Nanojamb's dance Party!

baa baa blurred sheep

My genes are determined not by
rain on clover
or the smell of march wool
nor the ways of the organisms burrowing in the soil
not of the ram's passion
or the bumble bees' good works

I am the future of food
I am monetized and memorized and mesmorised
my genes are set and known
and preferable
to a pesky little thing called natural selection

Since you're visiting, I've sung you a tune Monsanto

nextgen perimeter piss ...property values

the fleshy mysterious
a wet unpredictable intuitive
the squelchy world of plant and cellular creature:
our ancestoral life
in a fabulous symbiotic web of life

nature, that lush unknowable goddess
to claim any of it is to set her to slavery.

the permanent piss scent in a marker gene
or a sensor tag
or a rifd chip
biochip and nanosensor
claimed, bought, sold, controled.
luminence on a trait
a molecular signature on synthic offspring
transference in to the genome:
the goal is whole genome control

A perimeter piss is the illusion of belonging
a fix for waywardness in the web of life.
it once was useful, to protect the bitches to know from wence they come.

But no need now, the genome reveals your belonging.
the link back with our nature:
written in our genes.
Where we're from.
Where we're going.

get it out there

get it out there
get it everywhere
do it fast
before the people wake:

patented traits and facts
in a captive compliant
(significantly diminished)
populous

nanomeany

eeney meeny nanoweeny
in your socks and lotion creamy
on the elemental charts
natures palate of molecular parts

those basic sacred universal beauties
make way for more industrial cooties

while the universe is nanolysed
snort this coke its nanotised
silences are the nanolies
while the universe is nanolysed

fuel cells

Watch the meaning of "fuel cell" change from this:


to this:


language
changes us
as we devolve
knowledge of nature
to the molecular engineer
and their ponzi schemed patent chasers
dependent on our mass ignorance
of natures sweet uncombustable pleasures

the muse reading up on more practical stuff

The Olden Days Girl

wind runs right up this olden days girl
bulked up in layers against the February cold
chickens follow her to the calling cows
waiting out the bales fall and bust
and a fair green distribution
the girl and the dog check the state of calves
note the foo foos of the cows still in calf
pray that the water hasn`t froze up
and only then return as a flock to the sheds
mully high headed, tail a sail
ahead and center
her flock coming down the drive
into the workshop
where tools and bolts, implements and jobs are strewn
their histories cloaked by chicken dusted grime
dulled by the passage of an indefinite time
durations measured by the hatching of bantees
the progress of spider webs and the thickness of dust

my neighbours corn field

six inches of snow and near the end of November
across the road from my garden the transgenic corn still stands
its sodden and lodging, heads dropping, kernels covered in muddy snow
the odd shotgun blast but no pheasants alight, no disgruntled crows
deer are feeding elsewhere
what of it? who cares? let it rot or sprout come spring
the crows are feasting on the slim pickings on the surface of my compost
squawking and scratching for the buried scraps
and I want to know: where are the deer?

svalbard

In the icy reaches of the polar cap
where peaks push through ancient glacial blue
pyramidal mountains and ridged back bone
ions spinning down magnetic lines
there are goings on below the dancing light where heaven meets the earth

a silent world a white lacy gown, broken by scars of russian mines
and roads to labs with scientists and screens
assessing the numbers and values of bending the firmament:
the ionosphere coupled with the magnetosphere coupled with govern-free fear
plus vicious bears and frigid cold, it is no where better viewed than here
like haarp, eiscat beams up into the airy tissue an electron pulse
to block the double helix flow that travel down the magnetic line

And on a back road behind the airport, a sentry stands guard under fiber-optic art a laser knife in the mountain's base and under it a door
leading to alloy ribbed tunnels leading to vaults funded by Pharaohs:
the planet's seed resource tucked in nanoplastic
for our children's children's children under the dancing light


(photo from here)

chicken in corn

The little chicken in the corn rummaging through the autumn leftover garden, the frost not arrived quite yet so there are a few self-starters: arugula and cilantro bolted so tender but too small for the poor farmer