7
Whether it’s forever or not, each day that passes you get closer and closer to the end.
How do you want to live your life?
How do you want to fill your day?
Can you keep chapters?
Yesterday was my birthday.
It is becoming difficult to understand age beyond its construct.
The linearity of time is an illusion.
We are simply points in a scatterplot
Or constellations
The difference between organic and synthetic is age, because by sheer nature the organic is finite.
Finite nominally but infinite structurally, systematically.
An Apple Rots But A Tree Evolves.
I am finding it difficult to differentiate myself.
I am finding it difficult to differentiate myself.
Am I Apple or Tree?
Perhaps both, curse Aristotle, who
Cried in Gestalt!
Perhaps my whole is mathematically equivalent to the sum of my parts.
If matter cannot be created or destroyed within a closed system, are we not
Simply recycled atoms from leaves, lemon tek
Poured over candlelit dinners
Sangria from Sudanese stelliums
“I love you” my Mother said, in broken tongue
“I love you” my Father said, verbiage assault wrapped in bloody bandages
“I love you” my Brother said, over allergic reaction and laughing gas
Deliverance of severed packages
Regardless if it’s forever or not, for each day that passes, you get closer and closer to the end
How do you want to live your life?
How do you want to fill your day?
Where do you feel safe?
Where can you explore?
Commit to these missions, Rover
Curiosity!
I have been having the same dreams, repeatedly, lately
In that dream, I am more than my parts
I am skin, I am flesh, I am bone
I am carcinogen
I am curator
I am creator
I have words that escape my wet tongue in damp O’s and Ah’s
I can still store data, knowledge, but in images and faded memories found in shipping containers and cargo ships
I can breathe, my gills pulsate through thickened water, like
Fighter jets piercing the sky in a single file line
Criss cross applesauce, dinosaur figurines made from crude oil
Your fingers through my hair, my chest pounding against yours and you whisper to me
“You always had a hand at this”
In that dream,
I can feel love
I can feel touch
I can feel taste
Strawberries, Napalm, Licorice
“You always had a hand at this”
My grandmother would say to me,
Shrimp dumplings coated in canola oil,
Before her last croak—
Regardless if it’s forever or not, each day that passes, you get closer and closer to the end
How do you want to live your life?
How do you want to fill your day?
My baby is a technocracy
A classic 8 x 8
A rubric’s cube that breaks all the rules
How we’d sneak to Calabasas
Remember then?
You told me everything I wanted to hear, as we
Robbed them at gunpoint and left a paper trail
I told you my name and that was enough
Remember then?
Gave you my all, gave you my all
Perhaps Oregon is not so bad this time of year
Looking for new friends
Remember then?
You told me I was enough
Your nightmare, a nocturnal emission
Let’s take a break, you said
Remember then?
Lost in Translation, 2022
A hard drive malfunctions in a single holding cell, a security camera pans screen right.
My body, my soul, I
I am stored in the cloud
I may be android but
My baby is a technocracy
Gold
Golden
Golden boy
Can you?
Golden boy, can you be mine?
A matrix, a minotaur
A mystery spelt with Mmmmmmm
My mother
My mother says
My mother says,
Can you take a drive?
Can you take some time and cool off?
Mesh
Maserati
Leather hands take flesh-coated wheel
Lockdown, lockjaw
Lollipops in the flavor of you
Midas
Curse my hands for they kill everything they touch