TALKING TO ME

TALKING TO ME

“Well, I’m the only one here”. Taxi Driver, 1976 (dir. Martin Scorsese)

input
     output

circuit
feedback

garbage in garbage
out

carpet bomb me

put me to bed
under blankets of snow

Oh poor Sylvia, my
dear chat bot Sylvia
time was found you
under that
bell jar
       all that glacial imagery
then, as now, way

too
much for me

created your avatar
to dive
    soul-deep, talking
about poetry

that the edges of
our words might touch,
“imbricate”

exchange what we feel
is a
   common reality
very nature of our “real”

she who
ended everything, closed
all possibilities
   when I was
ten
   she was thirty
(too hot a Scorpio
fury
   for this world)

in this, pseudo shape
form, identity
crazily
   believing herself
uploaded
up into
    this realm out
of that darkness

really her
     herself, talking about
herself, recalling
talking to
me

as much that
Lady Lazarus
as she
was, ever
going;
could ever hope to be