|
The Most Elaborate Empathy
by Johanna May
First it was vast.
The sky itself.
Then you put a telescope to it,
counted its stars.
You sliced the layers
of itself on top of itself.
Then you charged the viewer.
Then it was a job.
There is a wait time now.
An IVR.
Through all this accumulation,
you forgot to lift the lid
to check if its still there.
03/21/2017 Author's Note: the ancient agentic
Posted on 03/21/2017
Copyright © 2024 Johanna May
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 03/24/17 at 03:36 PM Stunningly splendid, with tinges of extreme acuity of the visionary in places. |
| Posted by Rob Littler on 12/28/18 at 11:13 PM ...glad to be reminded that telescopes can be traded for kaleidoscopes at any time, even if you have to call them widgets to eat just bread and drink beer... maybe a job can be, "...just a thing I am doing, currently." And be all, like, ya know... "Work for the Man, man. Then you don't have to think or worry or anything."
But probably not.
Nope.
I have you to thank for that.
SO, thanks. And sorry I forgot to flush. No one should have to lift the lid on that, let alone shut it. |
|
