Frustration

We are just machines This is now known And this processing we skip Causes glitches and faults We can go back and fix it But it takes forever So we are pushing on Getting only to the point of fault Then failing again Yet we've switched off the signal The outside sees the working machine Notes a glitch, thinks it the machine taking over Talking over someone when they are speaking This machine is out of control! Why do I talk over? It's not take over, not like you say It's me, all the versions of me Existing all in that moment Frustrated that no one understands Or me, thrilled to exist It's all the versions that cannot wait Of the broken machine That should go back a bit and get fixed Trying to communicate With another broken machine That has the signals switched off Though that one looks to clockwork for answers If I approach the inner workings of the clock I'll be tore up in it's teeth I'm talking over myself now And can't finish the poem I wouldn't do that if I had a choice