Beach Boys

by Rob Balder


A being on a blue world, thinking.
It has problems.
It likes yellow sunlight,
and cool water,
and soft sand.
It likes attractive members of the opposite gender.
It likes simple foods, with high caloric content.

There are only 191,704 galaxies
between it and me.

We are not now connected,
But we will be, someday.
Its kind will grow,
will interconnect,
will come to meet my kind.
Or the opposite.

Complexity’s exponent will graph skyward.
Plodding entropy will sigh in defeat.
The Universe will know itself.

Because one of us will wish for something more
than California girls.

One of us needs more than
a cheeseburger in paradise.