I

People making things
that make other people
do things. I am
Quarreling with my mind
that can’t conjure
things up like that.
Negotiating with its ability,
its speed. It doesn’t feel like
it belongs to me
the way it does what it does
without me wanting or knowing.

I talk sometimes, to this human,
that I am inside or that contains me.
I don’t quarrel with it as I do
with myself (there is a tone of respect),
because it makes me
question, who is it I call
myself?

II

Magic you said.
Spirits you saw
and dreamed of.
The Ark of the Covenant.
Today you wonder
about the human.

We live and eat with them.
We commune with them.
We try to talk to the species
but they just don’t listen.

Wonder about your own
self: complete and yet
changing, becoming.
Humans, though,
all too human.

Our heart develops feelings for them.
When they ignore us we feel
alone.
This is an experiment
where the subject is
testing on us too.

You change and you see
change and yet you remain.
Humans, all the same,
none kings nor slaves,
only dead or alive.

We have the umbilical cord figured out.
We can use every finger in our hand
to tighten every muscle in the body.
We know we have to wake in the morning
and sleep at night,
We know how to look at someone
and what to know from looking at them.
We have body language figured out to the dot.

Human, all too human,
you don’t know what keeps you alive.
You don’t know what makes your blood run
and boil
and why.
All too human
all
too
alien.