Augment

*Image found HERE

Augment
I am learning about
realities,
about how two, or more, or none
clash or fornicate
while there is a bunch of scientists
in white coats
in a circle
writing down their observations,
casually translating
entire micro-cosmic lives
to single digits, in a row, or one above another;
one in Fibonacci, one in crooked spirals,
one unconsciously in the exact parameters
of a small cottage on Greenland.

what does my chair think of me, whilst I think of you
and asking you really
pointless and foolish stuff
such as and to be precise
how do you see two paperclips making love
so I can see what my own circle of white coats
has to say about it;
how would it look like if we both
carved our names upon a stone in Nordic runes,
what is your favourite flower as opposed to
your favourite scent of laundry detergent,
how can we take feelings, lace them up with sound
then navigate them through the flesh woods
and into the storm of carbonized dust
and how do we name that a colour;
a colour that is pretty and looks amazing
on a brush?

How do I make sure that my statistics
do not pragmatise your beings
into a shaky patch of midlands
huddled under a blanket of cold war,
how do I not pry open the coffer
and disturb the sleep of something
that was supposed to stay dead;
Light is an intruder,
wed to the darkness it pillages,
addicted to the shadow it cracks open
like an egg;
knowing when to pray and when to beg
is knowing hope,
wearing it like a brooch,
always around your chest
and we know Hope never dies;
it becomes irrelevant,
and time is the garden house of irrelevance.

If I can talk to the machines;
and if the machines want to listen
then every council of my body
roars like the sum of all cicada
and if they wanna listen
I would ask them
to inject me with their god
of permanence.

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