A Note

Two creatures pawing at a pill
That had dropped to the kitchen floor,
Then at a dried flower on a shelf.

Boredom’s a great motivator
For the brainier animals—
It’s not true curiosity.

These beasts don’t really want to know
What they don’t know, much as they want
Something to preoccupy them,

Staring at an apparently
Motionless, cluttered stretch of shelves.
It’s just a bit shocking to spot,

As one of the more murderous
Cooperators, a human,
Other monsters also get bored

And don’t know what to do with it,
Haven’t yet learned to worship it,
Either (few if any humans

Really have, anyway). Without
Boredom, what’s intelligence but
Residue of second-hand minds?

And there he slumped, top of the pile,
No idea left what he should do,
Or should have done, save leave a note.

Alligators Aren’t All Alligator Skins

What is it other people want
That is nothing wanted by you,
Waiting for your tribe to come to

Its senses? What is it you watch
Come crawling through swamps of events
Like a monster in a novel

Focused on moist biohorrors
That only you seem to notice
As such, while people around you

Still see a contest for something
Desirable to them, something
They think’s desirable to you?

You see hazard. They see rewards.
That’s what a monster shows when bored.

Moving the Furniture

Thoughts get in the way
Of each other, each
Day—it’s not just room

For the processing
Space of synapses,
Whatever model

You prefer for room.
It’s that thought
Negotiates thoughts

For other virtues
Besides compactness.
There’s weirdness factor,

There’s thought’s novelty,
The way thoughts connect.
Better you’re ready

Later, with streamlined
Thinking, than now,
Thoughts caught in the way

Half the time, unclear
Up there, in the ways
Of clear thoughts at all.