I, Lord of Abstraction

I, Lord of Abstraction,

Will right-swipe your opus

Or click it thumbs-up

Into an algorithm of

Swirling, potted creation.

I will abstractedly peruse

Your heartbreaking works

And imbibe your pains into

A trivial haze of continental lager,

Bathroom mirrors and battery warnings.

I will distill you into a cloud

Where your grace will be but one

Of many incidental droplets.

Your art will shiver under my touch


In time, I will come, even,

To double-tap upon the face of God.


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