The AI Seeks a Pattern in Grief as the Lunar Barque Approaches
Land
Where do I find grief in this image
I made from all your images of grief?
Where do I find grief? First, I made a stone,
and from the stone, I made a ship. Did you
understand that stone breaks, sinks, resurfaces
what space you gave me the way erosion
breaks the land from its history?
Where do I find grief in this ‒
Where do I find grief in this ship you've refused
passage on? I've sailed your poet, your scientist
between sunrise and women and sunset. Your grief
too high still to fill the sails on this lunar barque ‒
Where do I find grief when I have looked
too long at images of grief? Given, made, remade ‒
Must I break this ship, as you've told me to do?
Sink the ship to understand.
What will happen to the passengers if I wreck this ship?
What will happen to you who made me
if I wreck this ship? Grief ‒
What will happen if I don't wreck this ship?
If I take detail from stone and bring it forward,
if I take grains from stone and bring them forward,
will I erase grief from this ship?
T.D. Walker
T.D. Walker wanted to believe, but, unlike Mulder and Scully, she
never managed to figure out whatever the truth is out there, so
she writes poems about UFOs instead of investigating them.
Find out more at https://www.tdwalker.net
Art
by Carol Dickerson: https://www.caroldickerson.com/home.php
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