A road diverged
in yellowed woods
with neon letters
burning bright:
“Progress”
to the left-hand fork,
“Nostalgia” to the right.
I took my machete
to the brush between,
and so
I split the difference.
3/365
Poems to Save the World
A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…
