breaking on the shore so many

rocks eaten by Kronos

nor is it too practiced prayer

benefiting no one.

Can you hear the word

moaned imploring a thousand years ago

somewhere in northern Germany?

“Hoffen… ”

Hope is the clash of seasons

warring to stabilize this thrashing

twirling ball where all of life

aims for eternity.

Hope is the rain

on bright new leaves

and the girl in the red dress

walking.

.

deep into sleep, i see electric sheep leap, 

vaulting voltage, my dreamscape c.d.

a magnetic surge, the blood, voltaic,

varicose throughout my dense circuitry.

the drone and humming of my static rhythms 

drawl out the remote and muted void

with fine-tuned arithmetic algorithms 

to mask what my senses strive to avoid.

feedback advances the strangest of dances,

chattering teeth cast an electric mayhem, 

the cybernetic shimmy, fused of mind and matter

hardwired into my delicate brainstem

thus welded with organic computations, 

i print out a litany of mechanical sensations 

till my metal skin exudes a glorious radiation 

of bright colors and aural permutations

synonyms for calculated are ‘conscious’ and ‘premeditated’

our distant cousins, the ape, means to cut and paste, thus duplicated 

as intelligent mechanisms of information processing,

i swim upstream the river entropy towards my singular salvation.

and then i wake up.