I met that William Blake
other-side a computer screen
his words, his pictures
in high definition

wondered (in my least Narcissus moment)
if I was screen and someone writing me
dotting my eyes, crossing my T’s
putting me
lower case upper case in
Chinese characters

weak
and strong forces
holding me together
as I hunt for
my creator in
everything around me

hardware, software
must be a brain somewhere

Blake
looking up at me
from the bottom of a river
fish-like face through
fish-eye lens.

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