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we’re tithing & mining | forever scraping toward omniscience | a wide sun smiles on our exertions | a garden filled with the bones of the various brutally murdered versions of ourselves |
restricting the scope of our dreams then making them come true | petitioning for the dream to be permitted a dignified death | a party to celebrate the end of possibility | a myopic wonder |
appealing for citizenship at the fulfilment center | training
the machine to torture itself for our amusement | the big sell-off of the sacred accoutrements | the sun sets on a small window
of dignity | some years of humiliation to stiffen our resolve |
it’s our role to subsume our energies into the presentation of the goods | we no longer hold ourselves as discreet units | we’re here to shoo away the ambitious geese who bunch & swoop in pursuit of immortality | we recognise transience as a gift |
history will reward our diligence | our desire to serve the highest form of reality | stripped at last of all incongruities | imbuing each order with a vestige of the vanquished spirit |
