Poem #2,699 | Once I Worked Here
I am in an adventitious city
of once-worked history [my
lost congress & convention
times] – I enter now by that
front door as a Delegate – a
lugged bag [‘stead of rolled
flight-cases – I had directed
tippin’ up of trunks ‘cross a
truck’s dancefloor – audio a
first on our load schedules –
locals alongside to work as
part of that shifting] – This
is one of those venues I will
draw again & again into my
AI’ll-suck-off years – I fidget
in this day’s plenary [under
delay screens – line arrays –
front projection surfaces &
to a low mutter of sim tran]
& listen to scientific voices –
as worlds collide – designer
intervention [mine & great]