The Haunted Computer and the Android Pope by Ray Bradbury

Author:Ray Bradbury
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

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Druid City, Druid City, what a pity, what a shame,

Until noon of April 16th, I had never heard your name.

Is the all of you a forest, is the sum of you deep wood?

After midnight, then, what happens in your gnarled oak neighborhood?

Alabama is your mater, is your pater yonder oak?

Did you wander here from Memphis or from Celtic Roanoke?

That’s if Roanoke was Celtic, and if not, then where and when

Did a shambling host of chestnuts plant you here in rainfall glen?

Just this side of Tuscaloosa, did the syrup: Pepper/Coke

Drown your acorns, spout your rootlings high in mobs of elm and oak?

Do your priests survive in traffic, evil cops on every beat?

Do their acolytes teach sapling-innocents in every street?

Does your secret population rise at twilight, shunning sun?

Were they here before the pilgrims, centuries before Bull Run?

Druid City, Alabama, was your mama mystic fen?

Did the village smithy shape you with his devil’s anvils—when?

In that anvil chorus forest, were the natives scrawny, few?

Was your natal flora fatal, rank persimmon, morbid yew?

Was the raping of the Sabines carried out in centaur deeps

Where, in central Alabama, Alexander, map Pope, sleeps?

True or untrue, glad to see you, gladder still to see you gone;

Druid City, rainfalled, misting … sunk in locomotive dawn.

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