They say that love conquers all and I definitely have a tendency to want to believe. I imagine alien civilizations that have achieved the transcendental accession to ascension. That they might even have been able to continue to exist without corporeal physicality (not that they totally outgrew their propensity for it). The thought of such spirits wandering the cosmos, being creative, having fun. We must be such a disappointment in so many ways. A mirrored core I that!
This poem is like two people having sex
With the goal of racing to orgasm
Just to get it over with. The point gets made
Conception occurred. But personally I would
Have felt less used if there had been a bit of foreplay
Hey Chris, I haven't read anything of yours in awhile. I like, about this, that it's kind of shiny and neat, which maybe goes a fair way toward disguising what rests below the surface. I think your word choices work double hard, effectively to offer a sense of something slick and/or pleasing in appearance that turns out to but less than so. Really like the parting shot 'optical collusion' as it brings it all home. Nice work.