We are writing this book
Our own bible
Our own version
Our own voice and comments
Blues, reds and more blues
We had the old book to sit down to
Now we barely stand, hunched
spines all curved out
Typing and capturing our souls
into bits and data warehouses
I think further down the line
when we are no longer around
and only but cord away from disconnect
The masters of illusion, will then
plug a future generation into a different port
A new improved and container socket
will that future look back and read our bible with glee?
Our stories of gigantic feats and leaps
Our versions of stupendous bleak and failures
Living things finding ways to morph into phone screens
Is that a magic wand or an apple from a phone?
Creatures of ai springing instantly from pink-red blocks
Fear peddlers shouting from Truth churches
Upright men failing and breaking their founders neck
Pretoria women silenced from the blooming hills
Spies and snakes
shape shifting into leaders of the sun gods
In all,
What we write now is laid bare
waiting for those that will come in front.
