Pick the locks
and poke with sticks
until my neurons hit the bricks.
Is the focus fixed? Are the colors new?
Are the patterns truly shifting or’s it just distortion’s hue?
Pad around the physiology, hack the biochemistry
until all that’s there is clear to see
with less than naked eye.
I’m naively optimistic that there’s still a tale to tell,
that I’m collecting data. Am I trapped under the bell?
Has the existentialism wrapped me in its spell so fraught
With blessed freedom and the manic fear it held?
I know what I’m here for. I know what it is I hope to see.
I know the haze inside of glass unfolds life’s mysteries
And little dots inside of tabs can set a psyche free,
And though it makes the moments pass with arguably too much ease,
And sets a film of opaque fog to cloud the trivial memories,
I’m still along for this ride. I’m still here
to catch each breeze and let the billows sail.
Curiosity’s the gamble here and I’d
say I don’t know what to do… but
the constant flickered sparking tells me
I know plenty well that ain’t true.
|It's Time to Light the Lights // 1904 - Artwalk|