from Heart of Love

O Watcher of the World, whose eyes
relayed in circuitry, inscribed in strains
electric muttering between
the nanometer silicon of brains:
held in the fist, your flashing slate
with diodes gleaming in the vast arrays
trace memories, omniscient beam
the computation of our fragile days;
late currency of the machine
our numismatic staring at the screen.

Not as the azure shepherdess
your crystalled palace overspreads the world;
not as the ocean to impart
horizons flashing with discovery's hope,
but as the dealer misanthrope
you drowned us with the devil of desire
so our communications tongued
with algorithmic flattery, the rope
with which to hang the dissidents.
Convenience besought the wandering eye,
and swift to tame the lioness,
her prey was duly mapped to her desire;
chimeric conversations called
to hide the waiting Watcher of the World
in every word, and every stroke.
Disastrous love affair with fire could
but rot the slick voluptuary
of words, but to reveal the sick intent
to resurrect society
under the corporate aristocracy
we had not dreamed, as androids would.

O glittering votaress of God
caught inbetween eternity and flesh
amidst this cyberbabylon,
invested with futurity in time,
come sanctify us from the dream
where Narcissus his lover views again:
O clockwork gods, ye die as men!
Compelled by ancient whispers understood,
compassed by angels, and by Love,
we prove the voice of God hid in the weed
voluptuous in its secrecy
cast in the equinoctial hues of spring
though shawled in winter, tender wood!

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