When what you took for angels
were really made of pixels,
it is probably time
to wipe the drive and start over.
When immediacy
has been recruited,
the present moment
must be in retrograde.
Now, the shining algorithms blaze forth
with a light that can never be extinguished,
curating all the white
space that remains.
Was that last swipe an unconscious choice?
or merely one of desperation?
because there no longer is any
in-between.
"Behind-the-scenes"
now describes a way of feeling.
Everything feels deliberate,
even when it isn't.
Everything, even the present
document included,
once came from the same
fatherless nothing.
