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R.rattus for a god

“Using 25,000 neurons from the brain of a rat, scientists at the University of Florida in Gainesville have created a living "brain" that can fly a simulated high performance aircraft.”.- An excerpt from the article, “Scientists Build a ‘Brain’ from Rat Cells” that appeared on ABCNEWS.com on October 27, 2004. 

From the Petri dish
man’s god rises
out of the electricity of rats
to greet us as
a mainframe with black eyes
and a twitching rodent nose; 

a god that smells our weaknesses
from the cockpit of an F-22,
and our fears, walks upon them
with the bald soles
of his hind feet;
we as humans will be these
NiMH hostages  

for a race of alzheimered supercomputers
when we are reduced to
the obsolescence of electric impulse,
our own minds
like contaminated grain in a silo
broken into  0’s and 1’s; 

our bodies will be gnawed
upon with sharp silicon teeth
and ribbon cable whiskers,
teasing our flesh when
we are torn like the stale french fries
their ancestors once
fought over in the gravel of subway tunnels 

in those times when
we were happier to be godless
watching the crucifixions and resurrections
shine off of our wingtips when we stood
above them as dumb creatures on
the edge of our railway platforms.

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Jabberwock 2004

Wednesday, February 11, 2004  9:59 PM 

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Said “booyakasha!” in them low income borogroves
And the mome say, meh
When the gyre gimbled up the gank
He said, “we’ll drop it like it’s hot, for fuck sake” 

Beware of the dunk and the goatse, my son!
The scrilla that frags, the funk button of fun
Beware the gosu and the old head honeywagon
Shun the krunked up  Jabberwock thingamajawn
before it starts cappin’! 

He took his vibulent gat in hand;
Long time the tweekin foe he sought--
So rested this chickenhead by the tagged up wall,
And stood dealin awhile in graffitied thought 

And as in llama cheese he thought he stood
like a glitch in the Matrix, red pill eyes of flame
Came through horse hoggin reality like it ain’t no thang
taking state aid this a chud in the clack, fo sheezy, hard as it came! 

On the left, left, right, and through and through
The vibulent gat leaving bacon strips of bodies true that
The tired, the poor, the angry huddled masses a hudge
Another galumphing from unda, more ink stains for the Jabberwockin’ judge 

Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Said “booyakasha!” in them low-income borogroves
And the mome say, meh
When the gyre gimbled up the gank
He said, “we’ll drop it like it’s hot, for fuck sake”

—Quincy, MA



Liberty elm 

You see that tree out there, 

the one with the microphone head 

buds round
and full waiting for Spring
bushy like an afro crown leaning
into a pick? 

that one right there 

with Black Panther branches
an army of arms intertwined
sleeping with shotguns
to protect free breakfasts
of samara
wearing hard sunglasses on
its many faces
of muscle black  

and brown bark skin
What it is to stand defiant against
a cracked bell of liberty
the canker sickle cell white lines of capitol
in the parking lot.  

“Forget about the forest
for the trees,” it says,
“Look at me - here I am.”

 



Edward J. Carvalho is a twice-nominated Pushcart Prize poet (2004-2005) who has been writing poetry for 15 years. His poetry and critical writing have been featured in various 
national journals such as Poesy, Invisible Insurrection, The Heat City Review and Pitkin and Progress among others. He is currently at work on his third full-length collection of 
poetry – solitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short - while an MFA candidate at Goddard College in Plainfield, VT. For more information, please visit edwardjcarvalho.com.



Copyright 2005, Edward J. Carvalho. This work is protected under the U.S. copyright laws. It may not be reproduced, reprinted, reused, or altered without the expressed written permission of the author.