the̊ ̄Matrix Uploaded

15

May 7 by The Running Son

the̊  ̄Matrix Uploaded

Holy Zion, Neo!

That was no lump in my throat.
I swear I totally felt my soul stutter.
It fluttered, it was unsettling!
Palpitations felt were metal-mouth-green and streaming,
arcing me down to my relations and posterity

all caught in the Matrix

and hovering over apocalyptic worlds
and quantum event stages,
and wastelands,
and faltering nations,
and soul-sick patients choosing the red pill

of cultist underworld vocations, making oblations to sages.
All caught in limbo.
A deja-vu. A symbol
a download to the Matrix may be
all that saves you at this stage of translation.

All pills and dots
and universal translucence—
I feel a sudden sense of blue-pill blueness, and shiver
when I consider the two of us as food-units
feeding programs and lost souls, and giving mechanical fools false gold.

Or feeding earth. Golden-age industry,
or even stardust,
like moon-juice dripping through us; like a bad seal in the Matrix, bleeding.
But It wont harm us,
or the little dipper it fills, and spills out of–- made me a believer guys,

I went there and I’m telling you
It’s true.
Because this ain’t no silver-sipping morphine fever here,
no Morpheus
morphing into a courtly jester

jesting feverishly, or shadow-boxing thin white air.
Not me.
I’m newly teething,
plugged-in and baby clean
and neo-lithically pleading to both Dreamtown and Rock-city,

my two Matrix pocket-worlds disconnected
by a phone booth,
one of under-land seers,
the other, up-and-sprung doe-eyed deer,
both waiting to hear

about that third world, please.

by Jim Aldrich

(upd.5.29)