Till Human Choices Wake It And It Drowns
(Or, A Lament For The Once Removable Battery)
by johanna faust
the rain can fall upon you
can drench you to the bone
of everything could rob you
you could die alone
i know that, now.
i felt myself falling
with the rain somehow
i failed myself, flailing,
the rain falling hard
pouring out of buckets
laughing untoward
at all umbrellas and jackets
å
fantasy waterproof
in the end water will win
a leak will find every roof
water will find a way in
intricate machine
back found it dreaming
complicate subroutine
for grounded learning
danger the fluid mean
now no longer playing
all around where it has been
the field now quite level taking
technology trust assumes
by our own names asking we call it
its feckless slumber resumes
no turning off can befall it
not off completely ever
indifferently keeping secrets
more from you than better
open it to wake regrets
water will wake it up
doesn’t care about why
dissolve it break it up
wake up time to die
into your backpack sealed
into your technology sleeping
level the playing field
ports and vents penetrating
all your data holding
your life your finished work
into stony lifeless rendering
replaceable and dark
like anyone
like everyone
like no one
like someone who might have once
not screwed myself over all on my own
like just another analogy
like just another life
quotidian self made tragedy
first world seeming strife
i don’t have to watch something glowing.
i can pretend this phone is my laptop.
i can act like its really nothing
like someone who always backs up.
