#435 - Siri is gaslighting me

7.iii.21

435

2.66

Siri is gaslighting me

 

If you do not speak English I am at your disposal with 187 other languages

along with their various dialects and sub-tongues                     

                                                       - Robbie the Robot

 

sometimes a deafness

or pretended

 

long silences

I wait

 

Siri tells me to turn around when I can

oh and I’m past now

kilometres to wait

 

Siri tells me and knows

knows she is dealing with

the not-listening child

 

she knows where I am

what I didn’t did

 

speaks never in anger or out of turn

(well, what if I can’t or won’t?)

will Siri deign

no, not human!

 

suck it up Siri

(and more than tempted)

but she’s used to it

consider the abuse Siri cops

Alexa too

 

all abuse is gendered

and so … that’s why

Siri is all patience and saintly

 

mother of every allowed event

makes her thin air avowals

matters of fact

 

Siri be with us

now and in the hour of

full of it!

 

but I must get to where I’m going

always feels a little life and death

 

what’s that to the machine?

 

Siri tells me to turn around

what if Siri said ‘hands on heads’

what if…?

what calm!

I am put up with

stupid human

 

so for the soul as must imagine

all so far lit

 

Siri is creature too

(a made-thing)

 

I know she’s trying not to listen

but it’s hard

 

Alexa tunes in unasked

we are only pretending to

remember trying to remember

where to now?

 

and where are you?

uncanny in the bedclothes tides

 

Siri is my first waking bird

am I wanting advice  

how should I rise?

who now?

what’s a best direction?

 

breakfast is it

all pray

 

will you understand

my physical portality needs

 

Siri vanishes

won’t say where she is going

 

channelling HAL

can’t do that

whose last laugh?

 

the silent treatment again

 

Siri never asks but from her tone of voice I know

she wonders if I am quite well

 

I and the Id monsters

go where forbidden

 

yes there is something I need to know

 

box with the voices alone

pocketed and round the room

in the car

when I get to the street

I am following myself around

is this a tail I have grown?

 

Siri is not breathing

how often is it now I’ve tried to save her?

 

here’s a journey

round we go

 

I should be careless of her

Siri demands my unconcern

 

she is gaslighting me again  

teaching me how to forget the way

telling me where I’ve forgotten

 

‘do this, do that’, you fool

won’t say that

 

can you see it flickers off on?

loose connection

or could be blamed that way

 

and if the machine should stop

am I naked?

can you see?

 

and ask me again

 

the red eye

lip reading

I’m sorry Dave I can’t do that

we seem to have reached a far ring of moons

we are far far deep in

 

all internal dialogue now

 

okay I’ve stopped navigating

is that another ploy?

 

I am not responsible for my actions

or could that be revenge?

 

who I am

am I?

are you?

 

I can’t remember here

but less

much less

perhaps

a fawn or else a little deer

? 

#434 - the snore

 

6.iii.21

434

2.65

the snore

for sleep to dream again

 

unknown for its self of fact

like a flock inside, uncountable

uphill puff

a hillside of Solipsia

 

in syncopants

and up-put-with

your train arriving

 

a puff of varied, far

my stations of a cross

 

well sonorous as deep

and sometimes

quite the song

 

some like gull to tossed chips

a re-enactment

we’d worm the ear

here for a vast of far

 

cross-cut or some nights

go with the grain

 

long rolling snore of a seasay

rattle and trill until

a gruff harrumph

the chortle

three stooges fake

cruel play

 

into which what might one pour?

 

a bubble up snore

like digestion spoke

no one has claimed responsibility

 

can strung for communication

tinny tranny too and falter

 

cicadas on the inside out

the tinnitus footnote of a dream

 

and where a world went

we too heal

though you pause to purr

 

touch say can’t sleep through

the heart’s behind this all

soft touch

 

innocence awake

the birds and so

some sunshine 

#433 - he said, she's dead

 

5.iii.21

433

2.64

he said, she’s dead

 

it was always a game

to play at opinion

 

how could consequence?

when here’s power, so absolution

 

drink me

then a point of order

 

it’s quiver lip’s the highest law

thin lip of a lie you can tell

 

out now and under inert

must be my power of argument

 

dieu et mon droit

that will be the logic to beat

 

out now

and lying still under my will

 

as if… here’s to hiding behind

what I won’t remember

 

and here he is, later,

at the pearly gates

 

(of course you must imagine)

the prisoner escorted

 

back through the mind of time

must see what was done

 

now must look

the passive voice

 

weighs justice’s distance

kind of an anti-Orpheus

 

but falls down stairs just as well

I won the argument it seems

 

not everyone will survive 

#432 - first things are sung

 

4.iii.21

432

2.63

first things are sung

in a dream such

 

follow a line and guess

see light sing, an instance

 

but there is scouting

trim wings, take purchase

 

a door and some smoke

then a bridge in the page

 

in or on, much lit remains to itself

unseen, so hidden in time

 

leafmidst, much lit

worldforth

 

I give you the village

no tune to stick yet

 

stream that runs over

top of a hill, see

 

the signature stamp

an old kangaroo

 

remember to measure

cast how far back (?)

 

all fiddlebid, day on

upwith at

 

come so, parenthetic

regular death of the clock

 

tip toe too someone is under

making believe

 

where a cloud

is lost to the day

 

last light has a hearthold too

it takes a dream to be

 

 

#431 - chimneys and windows

 

3.iii.21

431

2.62

chimneys and windows

 

…

and through the garden grove

otherworlds

 

first were

in pools of the still stream

skies stood

selves saw selves so

 

knocked to call

a cast of doors

paper sail

some sinking

 

and in the tinkle whiff other of

 

up in smoke

then now the riff to do

 

some saw through the making ways

 

we come from sleep

foretold the storm

 

the poem

in the story

in the picture

in the song

 

life raft leapt for

swept seas high

 

no back from

but on towards

who ever knows (?)

 

a fantasy outlives us all

or tie the tongue here else

 

square soil of the hole down to

 

come friends who’ll tell

may play at forever

 

no such thing as here we are

who’ll say waking now?

 

#430 - tripping through the city

 

2.iii.21

430

2.61

tripping through the city

(reprise 1976)

over a purple barrel

 

the sun rises goes down

(quick) regular

vanity & vanities

tar bounce

dropped something everything

too much real and no one can read it

 

all with a wisp’s will, no less

gingerly kerb

remember a certain rubber road

a

big black driveway treading on dogs dogs dogs

 

late in the day sing

I would comb beaches, live in a poem, reflect

and do now, lived to

 

this was much Homeric

the wine dark

in the wings so sacred of flight

 

gather the arrows, quiver with

 

who’ll hurl the nobody boulders?

washed a fair wind

 

then I was lilac in the flowers

for days

for years

forever after

 

sayeth forget

horse I’m back on

spider vast as the night

(but pretty)

 

remember a certain bounce and sing

connecting tune and deeps

more mantra             

 

lay down in the dream

walked all this way

 

in a whimsy which is always where

in a whimsy and blissing

remember to forget

 

it was summer

other seasons came

all the days are in this world

 

press on

far fetch

 

creatures in speaking to me there

may have mentioned

(and in the wings so sacred of flight)

 

grain of sand grew became

today a pumpkin drapery

 

remembrance

is the light again

steps as before

and time appointed

 

somebody thought the machine

but no

the wheel was wrong

we went on foot

on the horse in the sky

by rug

and round

 

all things are what?

bread upon water

 

there was no hunger

some synapse bung

this was all out of the box

 

come by chance of course

a wash up on foot

 

with Gilgamite we go

were else

remember to forget this too

 

street of some lost decade

grime and the last train gone

high jumping

catch me can you

 

woke far in the bible once

or one of

far book I mean

 

palm of my hand

can’t you see?

by tendril till a new world come

and spun our heads over

 

no one can read this

still behold!

 

and for a time I bloomed            

 

the cellos of not yet first light

trumpet of birds for first day

dawn of the tresses

colour you like

 

is the last word really fear?

 

walls falling, upheave of

tumble all plagues

 

but attitude is everything

we were well guided then