Our Essentialness

We aren’t all metallic
And neither are our lives
We are flesh and blood
This organic essence
Produced of its own volition
As our future
Should be more of our
Not less
So we shall be
As a house upon a tree
Or on that rich red earth.
What more sublimity can be found
Than in these plateaus of the southwest
Or the dense forests of the northeast?
If you would like, embrace the manufactured, the faulty
As we might be.
Or, immerse yourself in the continual temporality
Of the organic imperfection
That we are.



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