Ghost In The Shell

Moving effortlessly, and then,

a glitch, an anomaly;

distracted by a stranger…

derailed by “Ah ha!”…

searching for the meaning

of a school massacre,

as if hearing a constant 

echo: “Who said that?”

Haunted by our own traces 

as we move through  time… 

aware that what moves

us is not mechanism or 

machinery. Looking for God, 

the itch we cannot scratch.

Vainly trying to give the

meat dream some legs

some permanence

some hope of forever.