Friday, March 25, 2016

AMNH (1986-1987) (for the late Sydney Anderson) [Poem by Clara B. Jones]

AMNH (1986-1987)
for the late Sydney Anderson

I sat across from you
studying the Pleistocene
capricious and chill.

Brainy Primate types
riven by hostile climate
into their own kind.

(Her performance flexible as Rattus
following Schneirla
from a past with no future to a lab with no subjects.)

Your curator mind
preferring forests


hot and green.

Two Songs About Conservation by Clara B. Jones

Dian's Song*

On top of Visoke covered with clouds
floats the spirit of Fossey in tropical shroud.

Her work didn’t end when she died that cold night
killed by an outlaw before his long flight.

Dian would beseech us to stand on the side
of endangered species with nowhere to hide.

She lived for gorillas and died for them, too
transferring the duty to me and to you.

On top of Visoke all covered with clouds
floats the spirit of Fossey in tropical shroud.

by Clara B. Jones

*Sing to the tune of, “On Top of Ole Smoky”


=================================================================



Conservation Song*

I.U.C.N., C.A.B.S.,
CONICIT, CONICIT,
C.I.T.E.S., and
W.W.F. all
take the heat,
take the heat.

Chorus: Conservation, conservation
is our task, is our task.
Minimize extinction, minimize extinction
guard the past, guard the past.

Save rainforests, save rainforests
and their genes, and their genes.
These are rich resources,
these are rich resources,
by all means, by all means.

Chorus: Conservation, conservation
is our task, is our task.
Minimize extinction, minimize extinction
guard the past, guard the past.

LepilemurMicrocebus,
AvahiSaguinus,
Cheirogaleidae,
Daubentoniidae,
LagothrixColobus.

Chorus: Conservation, conservation
is our task, is our task.
Minimize extinction, minimize extinction
guard the past, guard the past.

Stewardship of biota
has long-term gains,
long-term gains.
Human preservation
of these populations
strengthens chains,
strengthens chains.

Chorus: Conservation, conservation
is our task, is our task.
Minimize extinction, minimize extinction
guard the past, guard the past.

If the forests
of the tropics
disappear
from the lands,
we will bear the guilt for
this extermination
on our hands, on our hands.

Chorus: Conservation, conservation
is our task, is our task.
Minimize extinction, minimize extinction
guard the past, guard the past.

by Clara B. Jones


*Sing to the tune of, “Frère Jacques”



Ode To The Waterbear (Tardigrada) [Poem by Clara B. Jones]

Ode To The Waterbear (Tardigrada)

What animal is handsomer than you?
Oh, Tardigrade, I praise your will to live.
In hostile habitats your types survive,
with fossils from the Cambrian profuse.

Sometimes you prey on small invertebrates
or feed on algae when not drying out,
I watch you through my Nikon microscope
using your two hind legs to grasp substrate.

Your mouth is muscular with sticky glands,
your brain has many lobes and paired neurons,
your rhabdomeric eyes are shaped like cones,
your sex life is discreet like any man's.

A feather in your cap, oh, Tardigrade!
No specimen of life was better made!

Purely Academic by Clara B. Jones

Purely Academic

“It's acceptable to be ignorant but not acceptable to make a mistake.” Japanese Proverb

1. I planned on nursing.
“Follow Titchener!”, you said.
“Join the alliance
of arts, science, and letters.”

I started the path you cleared.

2. It is difficult
to sound sincerely grateful
for gratis gifts
of insight and instruction.

A formal hug upon sight
confirmed the shape of function.

3. I wanted to please
to study Primitive Art
to mimic the Wasps
those sophisticated girls
drinking wine from Steuben glass.

Your Greek Bronze Coins honored civilization's relics.

4. Ours was a Wabi Sabi relationship
impermanent, shadowy, flawed.
I tried to set a price on it
like a feminine Japanese portrait
never judging it's value.

You taught me to write
in the academic form
of Aichi's model.
Following your way
the long path was shorter
because of culture.
Koshima monkeys
washing grainy potatoes
risk-takers taking the lead.

High Priest's Sand Bringing
collected from monkeys' hands.

5. Overtly brazen
marginally intimate
independent mien.

“A notably large volume,
we'll weed out each mistake.”

If Jasper had lived
would these games have driven him home?
Would he have succumbed to your covert malady?

6. You disrespected
a scholar by your appropriation.

Stored in your cases
my beautiful specimens
name never tagged.

Two times by great men
princes of fieldwork
collections preserved.

Was it theft or convention?
Did you think I'd not notice?
Was it blind reflex?
Were I your son
would you have grieved
a reputation harmed?

It's only tough luck
laws unbroken
rituals at work.

7. Your wife at my door,
long blonde hair
short blue dress
seeking my husband
l a female bee-eater
forgoing the helper role
a Kenyan matriarch
whose son's wife cooks.

She left, you imploded
embracing necessity like a woman.

8. You say you are great
honored for publications
destined to endure
but is this legacy sufficient
to outweigh your losses?

9. The Elephant House
where you kissed her playfully
sheltered dying breeds.

10. No hay problema.
I won't hold it against you.
What you share with them
matters not at all.
In life as in statistics
difference is everything
and a genome is pathways removed
from the face that harbors it.

Were I young again,
your reputation would matter naught.

11. Impeccable restraint
in the manner of Empire.
Attention to detail
in the manner of homeland.
A lifetime following Hakone T
halting only to taste the snows of Kanagawa
to touch the pine trees of Aichi.



Dandelion Wine, Xanthous In Color (1978) (for the late William C. Dilger) by Clara B. Jones

Dandelion Wine, Xanthous In Color (1978)
for the late William C. Dilger

You and Wong Kar Wai
needed nothing but loss
to mine meaning.
Insuring failure
secured your prize.

From laziness or sloth or fear
I never learned your winter sparrows
whose barbs reminded you of Agapornis
and of a lab in Seewiesen
harboring birds and war.

Are there any new days?
Is Munich still the same?
Did Konrad's gaze
presage your fall into darkness
bearing a slight smile?

Trout for our lunch
at a castle near Munich
not in Vienna
where another castle
molded my photograph.

“You are a fascist.”
I startled and stared at an aging classic
Drosophila master
imperious and Gordian.



Schedules (for the late B.F. Skinner) by Clara B. Jones

Schedules

“What is love except another name for the use of positive reinforcement?” B.F. Skinner (1948)

Two private meetings
hindered by self-conscious awe
of your forward mien,
confident of your future
in the canon of Science.

Did you ever doubt
the operant resurgence
or cognition's end?
Did you repress proud Watson?
Were you grateful for his fall?

Long before Harvard
I saw the creative crib
used for an infant.
Tough parenting,
like rigorous Methods.

Attending High Church
what hot feelings could surpass
holding Court with you
expectant pigeon
waiting for pellets or drink?

Thanks for the rats, Marty.
You modeled Skinner's Methods sempiternally.



Priorities (#womeninscience) by Clara B. Jones

Priorities (#womeninscience)

“Women have no wilderness in them.” Louise Bogan (1923)

1. She said, “Don't do it.”
Barrenness recommended.
Science is uphill.

I was your student
but her path led upward.
I paid with reason.

You wanted babies
and forthwith tossed a career
to an agreeable postdoc.

2. Having one more child
made me a disappointment
fieldwork compromised.
“How hallowed is your contract?”
“Have you thought about Plan B?”

Few follow the path
that men understand.

3. She liked the idea
Sociobiology abstract and poignant
not child's play to me
a promised Acknowledgment.

A lasting lesson
a scientific method
now cautious of her concepts.

4. No seeming affect,
betraying the grievous loss
to a former friend.
What pleasures did wild jaguars
trade as compensation?

Emotions shaken
intentional life secured.
Work trumps loneliness
another healing anodyne.

5. Don't blame me, young girl
for problems he could not solve
pretending otherwise.

Formulas without proofs
pressed wildflower blossoms
scattered on campus.

6. Unlike Vienna or Provincetown or Big Cove
the flowering legumes of Palo Verde
beckoned bees
foragers
lonely travelers
to suck
to taste
to repurpose
E(nergy)
until the loopy webs
uncoiled from cutting
overgrazing
civilizing management
to please manicured invasives
hostile to sweat and rain.

The feminization of wilderness
wrought by restless men
wooing a frivolous kind
no longer occupied by children
or other homebound projects.




Fieldwork (1973-2007) by Clara B. Jones

Fieldwork (1973-2007)

“Study the mongoose.”
Good advice but Lariam
would make me crazy.
My letters left you wanting
a student closer to home.

I consciously deceived you.
Wanting your brain
in exchange for rote deference
I cynically offered space, conversation,
food, mattress
and more.

Aware only of your young face
reflected by sclerites
three weeks of research
left you restless
for distraction and play.

Your insects were no competition
for another species of fly
leading you
like one of her stallions
to playa and San José.

No hay problema.
By the time you trotted away
I had learned to classify Centris.

Immobilizing
collating morphometrics
each centimeter
another mammal datum
changing primatology.

Because you taught me
Pteridium's mysteries
I sought invasives
on Guanacaste hillsides
toxic to cattle and soil.

Entomacrodus
cupped in petrified coral
swimmer or walker.

Transported by waves
flushed onto craggy fossils
iterated risks.

Twice, I almost died
when ocean waters sucked me
into dark spaces
far from thyropteran bugs
and alouattine green leaves.

Who might have guessed it?
Ignorant boys in Texas
silenced your trained words
and ritual endeavors
to decode frogs' mysteries.

According to him
you were close to suicide.
Your dama demanded divorce.
He wanted me to fix you
but one favor did no good.

Your innocent son
trying to make sense of you
drawn to Anhinga
peering through binoculars
edges distant and unclear.

Over time, what co-evolves
between parent and young?

Every plant and animal
is proud to call you “Father”.

Your cocky lecture
ambitious and sarcastic
status more than rank.

Distinct simians
both habituated types
viewed with a master.

Her trained observations
refined our own practices
but you played expert.

Were you expectant
seeking strong validation
never forthcoming?
Icy rejection by your peers
a piercing enlightenment
like stepping on toxic black palms.



Social Biology (or Bound By Dulosis) (for E.O. Wilson) by Clara B. Jones

Social Biology (or Bound By Dulosis)
ISBN-10: 0674454901

“The mind makes the world in which it lives.” E.O. Wilson (1971)

Starting at fifteen,
adopting a priestly life
from fieldwork to fame.
Fondness for ants in amber
in fide scientiam.

Did you remain cloistered in your rooms
like an ascetic finding pleasure in restraint
a Lucretius of Sociobiology
investigating the way things were
as well as the way things are
not separate but connected
as solitary is connected to eusocial
and Polistes to Polybia
and Euclid to Mirzakhani?

You a storyteller not a mythmaker
a cenobite in scientific guise
aged by the ergonomic business of grants
and research and writing and papers or books
riving colleagues into separate classes or castes
with you and Hölldobler on top of them all
secure that your own kind honors patriarchy
above the societies of your ants always active
never able to afford contemplation
or forays beyond the local regime.

What codes prompted you to specialize on hexapod labor
divided like a Frau specializing on shopping or cleaning
while Herr divides his time between the laboratory and the gym
both places of commerce whether in Cologne or Cambridge
both places driven by testosterone's tendency to dominate the other type
dominating in some societies alien to altruism in the insect mode
as females form the nest and all its roles
succeeding in stunning contrast to their coevals with chaulky spines
separate domains
neither sex coexisting peacefully as matriarch or patriarch
since conflict releases ego from its boundaries.

I belong to a caste of workers acting for their own type
and types like them
wearing men's boots and gold hoop earrings
complement to the hues of their shoulders
strong as workers hauling detritus from their nests
as I cleansed my synapses of him, a task requiring months, no, years
memories persisting in some disarray, out of order
as you seemed to summon Hecate
rejecting, or, appearing to reject, Hamilton's c,
b being less of a loss in any formulation.

You know the gold ring encircles a formula
even though empiricists are the true heroes
the fact-checkers keeping Theory on the path to confidence
or, if not confidence, clarity of motive and function
an Atta foray on a clear night.

“You would make a worthy parasite.
May I be your host?”
a couplet spoken to too many consorts
iterations of manic emotions
nearly similar guises
on continents as different as South and West
and cities as alien as Letícia and Salzburg
but only one of you was called, “Patrón”
the one never forgotten
like the hostage-taker constantly on the other's mind.

Using energy that might succor herself
a contract that our kind calls “Love”
though insects know only slaves
as acervorum serves sublaevis in Germany
caring for the parasite's young
a task reserved for Patrón's other host
in another city, in another country
his supercolony extending across thousands of miles
connected by airplanes and radio towers
not limited by tiny legs moving in single file behind a leader.
I stayed exhausted, but, then, I was a caste of one, a man's host.
It might be easier to work with sisters and to serve one's own type.
Ant workers must have the best of all possible worlds.

Human families are polydomous
scattered yet still connected
across scales too massive for pheromones to span
though my senses recall him close to me in our humble cabina
lying parallel or not
anything but humble
our families nested thousands of miles away
secure that we were not a family
and never would be yoked through a new generation
or through some other holy contract
preventing us from gamboling serious contests with the highest stakes
and from morphing from pedestrian to universal
but, then, I could not sit at the High Table with him
though some reflect upon a negress wanting to
predisposed instead by ancient contracts advancing dulosis
and the fate of chance encounters
over the predictability of domestic life.

Once I saw a video of New York during rush hour
a high-speed moving picture of humans striding, or, running
in apparently random walk
ants scurrying in, out, around a perturbed nest
expending energy proportional to size
as humans do when not projected ahead in time
both types bound by Kleiber's Law and temperature
confounded by a constant
related to that other rule that you've rejected
where b and c expressed in terms of reproduction
will be defined as functions of Brown's theory
advancing our claims on the Unification Project
treating Solitary, Quasisocial, Semisocial, Eusocial
as states subsuming minimal and maximal rates
with each ergonomic component making its contribution
summation of energy-producing genotypes and phenotypes
conserved and reprogrammed from ants to man.

A robo-bee guided by my circuitry
semi-autonomous since that night in San José
a humanoid sitting opposite him at dinner
my fingers awkwardly grasping a fork
skewering chunks of brothy bass
both bitter and sweet with lemongrass and honey
made by bees near Bagaces
my hand steered remotely
powered by signals pulsing from his optic nerve
striking my programmed hand
avoiding an angle that might unveil my face
expressionless but wondering how I would return
to Cañas from Alajuela at 3 a.m.

My brain detached from self-induced intention
sensing that I was “winging it”
as scientists do while waiting for the next data point
humanoids as tethered to society
as an Apis flying alone to a blossom.
If not an individual, what?

If social behavior is a subterfuge
then selfish behavior is a hungry lion looking me in the eyes
calculating her odds with Hebbian precision
knowing in some connectome of her cortex that
without a good algorithm and a share of luck
potential for success may be as costly as failure.

A female lion and a worker ant are not alone
encumbered instead
by the energy of others in a pride or a colony
like other mammals or insects dominating terrestrial landscapes
or like ants fixed in amber
superior in ancient regimes arid or wet.



Scarlet Macaws (1973-2014) by Clara B. Jones

Scarlet Macaws (1973-2014)

1. The Amazon sang
“Stay with me not your marriage.
Love me forever.”
A river offered more joy
than familia or friends.

2. Three little children,
programmed in wet synapses,
consolidation electric and chemical.

3. A birdwatcher knows
a Lifer's horrid impact.
You shared warm coffee
near your tent in the forest.
Death became trivial.

4. What made me reflect
on my mother's sewing
my children's longing?
My image crafted
guilty conscience stabilized
prescription working.
Persona formal
anxious feelings steadied
Xanax operational.

5. Genetic markers
expressed as constant critics.
I, the egg-donor
always dodging sticky webs
stabilimentum redux.

6. Macaw vocalizations
filtered through wet leaves
raspy staccato.
But for your showy display
I might have overlooked you.
Sound infused dankness
between canopy and soil.

7. It would be useless
to wallow in sentiment
over Red male's wounds
or over his fear
of my tranquilizer gun
pointed at his black thigh.

While we are at it
Do Allee Effects vary
among human tribes?