Syllabus of Errors

And we were imagining staying
hardbound inside this one video game
forever, even if it meant
with you. Step from time,
O drama of the self! This ability
moves you to nowhere
and lets time pass.
The statue-form self, incapable
of imagining anything sadder
than the absence
of the hard return
(another relocated absence) of anyone’s
responsibilities: anyone
who thinks hard for us all
has to have told us at least where we are.
And we are nowhere, letting time pass,
as if
Thy worth, Enthusiast, shall be cherish'd here.
We, the Indian programmers,
couldn’t stop imagining the
programmers in India.
We, the American consumers,
couldn’t get our minds around
how much of a noun “adjective” is.
We, the protozoans, the pixels, thought
thought had something to do
with money, but what
doesn’t have something to do
with money? Are sounds
just sounds or are
they Beethoven?
And we were thinking about vibration
and time and wanting to set
words, the sounds of which I love, and abhor,
occasionally, and sometimes upon
request, to set in time,
loosely or tightly, holding
fast or falling out the bottom,
and not for you,
nothing for you
but to remember
instead of misquoting.
Funny that anything
can get a response out of anything.


Sources, in italics: crawlwiki, William Stafford, John Clare, John Cage, Anselm Berrigan.