if the paring knife hadn't been sharpened, or the ornamental glass plate filled, or those watching it all lubricating another moment
someone said pushing a button
was the revolution
the new frontier
the intersection of everything
even if we didn’t believe it
we pushed the button
and watched a city’s power grid collapse
we sawed off our feet years back
to lubricate our hands for one more
fistful of spent seed
to the flashing image compilation
painstakingly birthed from the hole of a machine