Sunday, September 08, 2019

#408 L'Automate

What is the grelot thinking
of now that it has finally
come to rest? Has assumed
the position, as it were, the
one that says traveling is
over for the day. Poses

for the painter on a velvet
cushion, inside a wicker chair —
not quite renaissance splendor
but close enough to it, given
the times. Is it thinking &/or
surveying the visible world

in front of it? Is it reflecting
the invisible one? Is this a
programmed move, a simple
act of recuperation? Or has its
power source drained, & the
binary pathways all dried up?