Bernoulli Revisited

He makes a show of being different,

doesn’t PRESS HERE but punches a hole

in the sloping roof of the red half-pint

with his yellow pencil, #2 and sharp,

inserts the peeled-paper straw

like an off-kilter chimney and sucks

but the

flow

is not to his liking, incompressible fluid

clawed back by vacuum, forces we don’t foresee

in second grade, so another hole

in the opposite gable which of course invites

a second straw and then the irresistible

attraction of blowing

bubbles

in milk:

compression, current, magnificent pearlescent arc!

into the blond ponytail and down the neck

of Susan who screams and begins to cry

which summons ultimate force and compulsion

in the form of Miss Taylor,

thus ending

the experiment.

Blame physics, blame pressure & flow, blame

seven-year olds oblivious to cause and effect

and consequences, waxed folded cardstock,

aqueous emulsion, infinite possibility,

a boy’s mind and hands so eager to explore

unfettered

invention.

Rain Crow

My old friend told me it sings

to prophesy rain

three days from now, not a bad bet this season

of afternoon thunder,

and almost forever I assumed he meant

black-cloud Corvids croaked

that cluck, that chuckle in their repertoire

of complaint & caw,

until years after he passed

I finally saw one

half-hidden in the magnolia,

barred tail

and down-curved yellow bill,

starting up

its little engine ‘til it caught, cuck-cuck-cuck,

letting me know

I’m still not half so smart as Shorty Jenkins,

gnarled and knobbed

as his sumac stick, trying to teach me names

I hadn’t even thought of yet,

reminding me to watch for lightning.

Yellow-billed Cuckoo, Coccyzus americanus