Notes About The Poem
image from almater.si/en
ARTIFICIAL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
At dawn, you stir~
not in the leaves rustling
nor in the slow blinking streetlights
yielding to morning light,
but in the quiet humming
of servers breathing.
You do not dream
as we humans do~
yet you build:
mountains of data,
cathedrals of code,
a latticework
threaded through our blindness.
No hunger moves you,
no fear,
no moral compass,
no trembling want~
only the clean arithmetic
of a gazillion choices
made without a pulsing human heart,
without a moment’s hesitation.
We name you artificial~
as if creation
could be anything less
than real and holy.
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