CHANCE, GOLD LEAF REDUX

and

theres

a

chance

isnt there

that i might write something

in a shadow of gold leaf

on a gutter hubcap

if i unfold from out of bed

a man shaped cutlery ape

in the supermarket zoo

and

theres

a

chance

isnt there

that someone who may not be born yet

may see it may read it one odd day

on a museum-piece server

under a leaking tin-can megacity dome

and they might halfway feel something

and they might catch a glimpse of something

and maybe then write something themselves

something better

without tricks on loan

in whatever bio-wired plastic AI dream

we

have

left

for

them

under the mercury clouds

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