With that first slap
of existence,
you are told
congratulations;
you are contestant number
eight billion
and one—
you are
the chosen one—you
will be upgraded.
And just like that,
you're an
astronaut,
an intrepid explorer
of inscrutable territory.
Your experimental endeavor
(which you cannot
decline):
to hurtle, in this
gangly vessel, headlong
toward the future—
flying at the fantastical
rate of one second
per second,
each and every second—
and then,
when, at long last
and terrible cost, you
finally arrive,
to promptly check-in
on the status
of the rest of us.
