Speaking in the subjunctive
of patterns in matter,
where in the word
do I find solace, solution?
in phrases of praise,
phonemes of power?
in lyric overlay or
gimmicky mimicry
organized into organism,
the electrical echoes of memory?
in education, a textually-transmitted disease?
But knowledge goes in and out of my head
like the tide, and so much of what is recorded
is misread into misunderstanding,
imaginative proliferation of
alphabet euthanasia.

My anti-entropic efforts
tend toward the and,
to ignore the or.