Is what we’re not
And won’t need us,
Not in this form.
The days of names
Are nights of counts
Now. But in deep,
Where nuts and bolts
Of bits and swerves
Have to lie, we
Are still. The thoughts
Of the strange shapes
That will hold thoughts
Have us at core.
We won’t speak much
In brave new worlds,
But we’re in store.
Saturday, March 27, 2021
A Gee Eye
