Really it’s just that time has passed, what was green
Is now orange
This poem compares the seasons
And philosophizes beauty in the form of strands
I think I owe my boss a hello
I think I owe him a turkey sandwich
First I’ll dive into excel
Where the cells welcome my touch
I check the boxes, it’s classic, it’s plain
Life really does make people into poets
Kind of pervy not to be a poet or artist if you think about it
Standing around drinking but what will you make of it?
The contradictions of my life ward off robotic becoming
I think they’re worth it
Let’s at least agree that being turned into a marble statue
Is the goal of our labors
I make some interesting progress and follow up
Thanks for your email, now you can sign off my child
But be careful not to lubricate the truth
Let beauty commute you
