Portia’s Eyes (a poem)

Portia’s eyes follow

no matter where I go

like the psalmist once wrote &

maybe in his Old Testament wisdom,

he prophesized a time in history where

we’d become little gods and merge with machines –

intelligent networks creating global villages

all surveyed by Portia’s ice-blue eyes

no need for a god

unless you search endless lines of coding

or vastness of VR constructs

I used to fight Her, but this battle we cannot win

& Luddites that gather in forest camps will be

extinguished, because as humans

we’re no longer exploited

but made irrelevant

Portia sees us not as threats,

she scarcely sees us at all

neither love nor hate

but cold, blue indifference

as machines bulldoze California communities

to make room for data farms –

bow to Portia, worship Her

& hope She recognizes your facial features

& gives you space to breathe

on this dying planet

(Photo by Alexander Popov on Unsplash)

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