glimpse

Machine can probably see my notes on paper through its one glass eye like the bob at the end of the line every time I raise my phone over my journal to make a hair appointment, check business hours, or see if anyone has signaled silently to me from inside their thoughts, across outer space, encoded in sequences of lines and circles, not even ones and zeros, let’s be real, if they were ones and zeros they would have value.  no value, only on… and off… yes and no.  the binary.  the dyad.  no judgement, no warranty.  on … or off… and on again.