The Sonata Machine
Logan Thrasher Collins
beneath an expanse of darkness shot through
with glimmering gadzillions of echoing stars, we stand,
wetware toes braced against the soil’s diasporic discourse
of moistly coded lactone linguisms
and attoscale electrostatic blurs.
we react, counteract, crickity-crack,
sparking cascades of coordinated neurophysiology
frizzing through this vast wavefunction gel,
the ultimate symphony,
unparalleled in its complexity,
replete with unceasing mutagenesis.
speed up the pace of history and
you will see the system synchronise,
the computational engines underlying our
cosmic storystuff aligning to solve those equations
of living and loving and dying and striving that
wander like lost aliens through sleepless nights.
we’ve funnelled Jupiter’s entropy out of reality and
now the gas giant is a Matrioshka brain,
running emulations upon emulations which
course and pulse as they seek out
the spatiotemporal gestalt which clicks
into a joy so intense that all
quintessential clockwork had
unknowingly sought its realisation
since time started tick-tickity-ticking.
that’s the universe we have spread out before us
when we stand within the nebulas of buzzing biochemistry
which populate this thin film Earth
and touch the night air atoms
and promise that we have
the power to build the future
and that the sonata playing in our dreams
will encode our metamorphosis.
Originally published in Andromeda Spaceways Magazine #70 12/4/2017