POEM: Beauty

blinding fire of neurons

— excitation & secretion —

all from a 2-D arrangement of pixels

that my brain thinks is worth getting worked up over —

symmetry, smoothness, scaling, and that jazz–

but that program isn’t the final word

i’ve re-jacked the synaptic dance

when the wiser bit recognized something

flawless in the arrangement of a pile of flaws

or a gorgeous simplicity,

or, alternatively, poison in the perfection

in the short-run,

what was said of pornography may be true of beauty —

i.e. “I know it when I see it.”

but, in the long run,

we’re all dust,

&

vaguely-remembered best impressions

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