In service to the technocracy
ergonomically deposited into a climate-controlled canister
and surrounded by vacuous guidebooks and manuals sans meaning
I sat reading the latest obligatory missive that said,
“Do not repeat your self”
And I felt great relief
Because they must understand
indeed, understand that for each of us there will never be another—
that for all we fear, none will act in combat with our essence.
There is no alternative instance of my self living inauthentically
spewing bad grammar and vapid admonishments
And for this essential blessing
I pause for thanks
Trusting that I will rise intact each day
This poem was published in the Spring 2020 issue of WestWard Quarterly.
March 7, 2020