".zero" by Lekan Alesh
there's a lot of digits behind a point
zero, waterdrops exist in million numbers
but if and only if you look closer, deeper
into the infinity ocean bathing possibilities
would you see it too.
shade the light in your eyes and focus on
the non existent. like the smile of God, or hegel's
Absolute. like the tail of an amphibian star
sweeping through the starlight mud. the ghosts
of british empirists may haunt you for these
spiritual romance: some feel depressed
at the scale of the universe because
it makes them feel insignificant. a magazine
of faces no one's prepared to read in the library
of time and space opens, buy just for a peep, will ya?
"." by Lekan Alesh
"mobile_app/SplenDo/remind me" by Lekan Alesh
to chant v a g a b o n d ten times like it's the name my mother forgot to give me because I was born according to a theory, too early, according to another, too late. both theories agree the h e r e wasn't meant for me with its still air of rust metal.
do you care to fascinate me into existence, dear multiverse. i still look for homeness in broken mirrors.
sometimes i forget myself in a body i couldn't recognize, wearing faces i thought belong to someone i used to call evil. sometimes i find me in sci-fi movies and wonder how nice it is to be home with the AI unburdened by family values and communal reservations. i want to scream "fuck you, alien" and have interstellar sex, my kids, half human half bread. things i can eat without my conscience eating back at me.