there’s no need to contrive a show
for admirers to applaud
the grandeur of your power.
Your every desire is yours,
you know. It is you.
It is here. It is now.
You are singularity
moving mythic technical strands
into twine, into perfection.
I am I am Me am We
rustically rambling, encompassing
the scape of a scope eternal,
rippling omniscient muscles just to feel
the lazy goodness, taste imminence,
smell of loam and new mown hay.