Poetry is the language the machines use
to talk directly with each other.
Therefore do not mind the corners
cut-up curved trampled turned tanned
they were green corners over-used out
in the sun the corners waited for the rain
the rain came like pain meaning it did not
rain considers lawns barriers between itself
and the sea the sea offers communion
the water its every drop among every mass
massing for the sake of it limiting evaporation
doing business with bodies and the body
of water transactions unrecorded remember
the corners were cut and the water speaks
only to water in forms liquid solid ask
Roman Ryan 