Beneath all sense and sensation
Where the secret gears revolve,
Where the snap and slap of molecules
Enforce the chains of interaction
Tightly confined by history’s
Ken of missteps to disaster,
Processes proceed to decree
What whims may move to generate
Solidities of what we think as will.
This hubris each of us accepts
That we decide how and what and when
Discounts continuity’s mechanics,
Ignores those flicks of memory,
Twitches of perception,
Are chemistry and circumstance.
We luxuriate in self deception
We are a cosmetic flower
Perched within this strange beast’s hair.