It doesn’t describe the thing
The description becomes the 
Rhizome making of making
Self replicating 
Recursions 
Poems are descriptive 
Feeling something
The poem makes the body
That walks out of the process 
Describing itself 
and how the world will use it
Trash is just not enough information 
The forest has no trash

Disassemble and reuse
Nowhere is the number stored
Just the process 
Ready Fire Aim
A space where search is rewarded 

The endless frontier 

Frolicking in the garden
While ribosomes are churning 
1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 56 …
(N +(N+1))

June 14, 2023