pareidolia
there above, up on the moon, a face, the pattern forms
crossing constellations out in space, the pattern forms
against a cerulean sky the ancient elephant appears
the old hills and scrub make a trace, the pattern forms
on the tv, watching history spilt across the screen
too much untaught trying to erase, the pattern forms
staring at random shapes of trees and veins and rivers
fractal figures, a chaotic interface, the pattern forms
fear and doubts plague the news, as greedy vultures
watch our dollars in the marketplace, the pattern forms
Madame Defarge at her knitting, watching all the while
so afterwards the crimes we’ll retrace, the pattern forms
I wish I could be as stoic as ol’ Marcus Aurelius
but I can’t wait with any grace, the pattern forms
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