April 2, 2020 Or, A Poem About Economies


Everything is  50 percent perfect
in this floating point in time

but for a set of sifting proxies
we’d be more than halfway

Monumental Artifice is a cruel thing
it seems

it feeds its fear
as a child at a river
with a bag of stale bread

and we must choose to consume
and be consumed

or starve
and let die our other half

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