The Texts of Innocence and Experience

Go to settings
…and choose a one-scoop heart.

Measure what you want to know,
and ignore the answers. They
toy with your similarity.

Make a menu
of what you won’t need.
Choose not now.
Broaden what you see
so far.

2

It’s a sad little radar
that sounds out
the wide space
between you and me.

I check the
foreign screens. We all do
now.

You don’t know how
to live outside the inside rules.

3

My time is only
doors opening,
as doors will open.

My days
number single stars.

The moonlight’s utility
is how much it can hold.

4

A firmament softens
in the green still grown
from our loss
of control. The machines
will turn off. The nodes melt down
in what remains
without measure or code.
(Insert
another sentence
here
of what you wanted
but could not have).

5

We are losing contact
with what knows us.
As we defer to the dazzling
images of infinite access,
we shorten, chop perspective
and seek portrayal. Every lie possible
waits. Ransomware writes
our tired stories.
In such cleverness we lose the point
and are punished by the bottom lines.

6

The screens and keys
and operating structures
contrived to place us on hold
and in artifacts
deftly clouding our unknowing.

Experience travels, then deceives.
We don’t remember that the will
is architect of the soul.

All is at hand.
And our hands are missing.