2 pomes by Hinman: the world has Evolved and Something of the Conspiratorial

The World Has Evolved

The world has evolved

Like a rubber ball.

An ideal smoothness has

Bumped up into form.

And if a child’s had could catch it,

And the mountains and cities

And wood lands

Would go bouncing over the housetop,

And bouncing over the trees.

Latter he will lie on his back

In the grass,
and the world will look

At the stars.

Something of The Conspiratorial

Each evening gallery of ignorant faces

Brings images of bankers and boardrooms

And the world’s planners,

Now and then even a faint suspicion

Of space aliens.

My brother says these are the tactics

of a child race,

a race growing in spasms.

But I know the aliens are watching.

Watching form a distant land

Where strange creatures copulate

In sacred groves, and spiders measure

The circumfrance of the sun.

They breath joy when we fail,

Driven to excel throughout the galaxy.

They taste exotic ices as they listen

To the cries of the oppressed;

And when their children ask they say:

‘Those are fragile democracyes.’