Things of Man
Poem and a picture
These things are of man. They are the energy of man.
God infiltrates the algorithm, shows the eyes things
at the right time, but so does the deceiver and so does
man. Is this buzzing clicking the new wilderness?
Are the trees a coal belch of new imaginary currency
and wasn’t it all imaginary and thus terrifying to all
who want to fist grip it and where does God sit in
the computer takeover? In the ridiculous political
race you’d be ridiculous to follow? Like a sport
of man. Waving flags and rooting. We’ll obviously
vote for what we think is the truth, not phony baloney.
We’ll obviously disagree on what we saw and what was
said and where we go and what is reported.
I’ll love you anyway
under noise and blue light.
God whispers under outrage opinions slinging.
God is patient. God is doing. Man is impatient.
Man eroding. Man feels the insistent empty.
Hall of mirrors and you’re lost there, but who set it up?
Man. Who entered? Me. Remember
recess at school? Do you have to play every game?
Do you have to touch the basketball,
leap the lava or join the foursquare line? It’s called
free play. It’s called free time. It’s called recess.
Adjourning the house, adjourning the senate.
You can sit on the rusty slide and talk. You can
cat’s cradle. You can roll down the hill. You can
torture a classmate or refuse. You can twist the
tire swing around and around and release it.
You can spin, baby. You can swing.
Love this!