which claims the wise no longer walk our streets.
I see prophets in the movies, prophets on TV,
place my forehead at the feet
of my Wednesday pilates teacher ;)
let’s make WEDNESDAY our holy day
there is nothing after this.
We are emboldened by our impeding absence,
the promise of blessed little left.
We let ourselves go, I let myself go,
I want to be a part of something beautiful
or the pink crescent of a finger slipping into a frame.
For old-times sake we take a communion of ginger
and turmeric, hot sauce, horseradish and
whiskey distilled from rye, to remind us
not of dissolution, just
of the solid sensation of being alive.
We study the newest testaments: Sartre, Arthur C. Clark,
research for draft one of a nonexistent draft two.
I make grand claims- nearly all untrue
We revolve and absolve to disperse.
entropy doesn't apply to me, I'm a centipede
of perfect future mouths and teeth.
We will, for now, possess our flesh but soon
be subsumed by an embarrassment of overproduction.
My feet at least, begin their descent.
from 5D (Fifth Dimension) and
its sad spiral towards the infinite end.
Don’t unseat my progress,
I move first in HALF then in DOUBLE time.
Wander the digital, sanction no map-
when we wish for a we, we find only underground cable.
Though together we’re lost, I am individually unplottable:
I have no traceable past, but we will be found at long last.
for
the pattern ME is the pattern WE is pattern EVERYTHING
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\