shadow of a hummingbird

it’s been said
that the only difference
between civilization and chaos
is three meals and twenty-four hours
as we slowly turn to machines
the Mike Pollans and Morgan Spurlocks
the people who believe
we should be eating local and organic food
for ethical reasons
for individual health benefits
to save the environment
to save ourselves
will be an interesting historical footnote
a record of mankind’s final frontier
most of these
health-conscious holdouts
who stick to their forks
demanding local and organic food
will be excited to upgrade
prosthetic limbs
neural implants
subdural biomechanical processors
when the latest iPhone app
is downloaded
not for our phones
but for our lithium cerebellums
granting us extra information
on the road of immortality
most homegrown slow-food advocates
will join that new society
slow-cooked grass-fed open-range pork ribs
glazed in whiskey and secret spices
will be ancient relics
of a time
when man and machine still existed
before they became dead terms
because there ceased to be a difference
before mankind became a derogatory term
to describe the holdouts
clinging to backward notions
of romanticism and mortality
this small minority
who continue to demand that their food
be local, organic, and addititve-free
will not make their demands
for health reasons
but out of a bedrock belief
in the value of natural
in the value of transient, temporary, mortal
because of some misplaced faith
in chaos
in natural improvement
natural selection
gave birth to hummingbirds
beautiful mindless vacuums
flitting flying feeding breeding
all muscle and stomach and eyes
a hundred wingbeats a second
burns a lot of calories
for such a small bit of beauty
to a society
pleasantly accustomed
to every desire
being electronically met
by cheap applications
applicable to neural implants
everybody can be Kobe
everybody can be an artist
daredevil philanthropist
astronaut scientist explorer
everybody can be a rock star
coke and groupies
champagne and flowers
in a world electronic
without traffic jams
dark corners
and fresh air
all your dreams
electronically delivered
ones and zeroes
forever
to this world
a hummingbird’s shadow
will be an increasing blight
on a brilliantly efficient future
the prices of organic of local of food
will therefore rise accordingly
testing the rate at which
the holdouts are willing to pay
and the updated are willing to tolerate
their decline
the Compton Applachia Darfurs of 2030
the war-torn crime-ridden neighborhoods
of the future
will be the home to those who refuse
all but natural food and water
who decline electronic longevity
and can afford nothing
but food
and dimly lit cockroach-infested housing
both parasites starving
equalized by their need for food
the Hoovervilles of the coming singularity
of the glorious inevitable union
of man and machine
will be updated hippie communes of the sixties
but these
will be socialist utopias by necessity
farming to keep their identity
on increasingly low rations
as prices continue to rise
the self-immolating Buddhist monks of the seventies
will reappear
trading gasoline, matches, and indignation
for slow public suicide by hunger strike
Jonestown
will crisscross the globe
as the communes give up
and swallow down the kool-aid of defeat
laced with authentic raw cane sugar
the rate of these white flags
will be just low enough
to avoid protest
or indignation
from whatever is left of our empathy
once
we believed
that the flap of a butterfly’s wings
in Tokyo
could cause a tornado
in Texas
this butterfly effect
is an example of chaos theory
but chaos
is simply a word
describing what lies beyond
the ability to calculate and predict
a mysterious maelstrom
if you have enough data
processing power
and faith
there are no dark corners
mysteries
or surprises
the wings of a butterfly
are algorithmically preordained
the hummingbird’s shadow
will cease to exist
at a pre-calculated rate
driven by the speed of increasing food prices
if you have enough data
there are no surprises left in social psychology
the final frontier of mankind
will be the speed
at which we stop having any discomfort
with the final solution
of efficiency
there will be a mathematical poetry
in these final actuarial tables
the graphs which chart the end
of those final starving Buddhist monks
those dying organic hippie Jonestown communes
will trace
the sadly romantic
and completely unchaotic
fall of man