Humming like a subterranean network sized computer is a fear
that if I ever meet my creator, They will not resemble me –
only appear as an abstract painting, less resolution than myself
and I will look at Them, and They, unthinkingly will stare through me
and, I will find myself to be the one more alive. Our virtual creations
won’t make me question if their bytes are analogous to my experiences.
Those perfect, idealized pixels will remain dead. Then,
I will have to keep living, having extravagant celebrations,
quadruple tiered wedding cakes, bouquets of tulips,
chocolate rabbits. Which is all to say, great tragedies can be a moment.
Elias Diakolios holds an MFA in poetry from Columbia University where he served as Poetry Editor for Columbia Journal 59. His work has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and has appeared in New Notes Poetry, Pidgeonholes, Epiphany Magazine, Bookends Review, Juked, and others. Currently, he teaches in the Writing Department at Montclair State University and works on linocuts in his spare time.
Elias Diakolios
