dead air


silence on the radio
ambient climbing up out of the double digits
the dew point is seventy plus

dead air

so
every fan i could find is now in a window
but i feel like i can't move (without effort)
and long cats are in evidence

in desperation i ran some cold water in the tub
grabbed a sweating beer
grabbed a nearby chair
and hung in my feet

that's better

in the splendid coolness
from an old back alley
a memory surfaces

the water thunders over the falls

sitting on a rock at cotton hollow
the current coursing through the stones
the river rushes by
and just a bit of it through my toes

i recall an idea from some where then

what if the swirls around the stones
formed some sort of binary logic gates?
what if a series of stones could compute a function?
what if there were a planet entirely covered by flowing water
(except for two points)
with a huge network of stones and currents like neurons?
what if the stones there formed a self-aware consciousness?

what would it be thinking?

silence on the radio
the heat is oppressive

and i digress

©2005 by Bill Grundmann

song: It Slowly Dawned


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