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Crack the mantle of the earth

and drag all the continents

back together

into one.

The ultimate forced unity.

I look out

over chasms of space and time,

vast immeasurable gulfs,

and seek to understand you,

but I cannot.


This world has riven

mother from daughter,

father from son,

lover from lover.

Split the bloodlines

like a tree

branches up towards the sky.

A million leaves,

on a million trees

that will never come into contact,

until they all meet,

dead and brittle,

swept into the gutters,

and along doorways

by the catastrophe of life.


How can I get you to hear me?

I have drunk down

every whiskey bottle,

and once empty,

penned ten thousand notes to you,

and rolled them up,

and stuffed them inside.

Sealed them up,

and tossed them in the ocean,

until the coastline

is just a shimmering sea

of bobbing glass.

Still, I hear nothing.

Soon, all those bottles

get picked up by bottle pickers

and taken in for a nickel,

the notes discarded.


I have hacked the code,

imprinted my message

into a billion nodes,

asking if there is anyone

that can hear me.

The AI doesn’t even reply,

it just  flags my message

and shadow bans me,

leaving me to scream

into this vast, digital abyss,

where the only echo that returns

asks me if I know about crypto.


I’m going to have to break something.

Either the Earth,

or the Heavens,

or an idea.

I have spent time enough

seeing the bottle messages of others

float ashore,

and I hear them,

even with no way

of returning a message in kind.

I know you’re out there,

and I’m listening.

I’ll keep sending messages

until I am dead,

or until I am heard;

so, until then,

maybe check your spam folder.



HG – 2022

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