The Computer Imagines Me a Boy

Broad-chested, flat
And just out of reach

Perched as he is
A clenching boy

On his digital horse
Crooked incisors flashing

In the white of his sun.
The coded boy reaches

Through swells of matter
And computes the distance between us

As easy as saying
My own name backward in a mirror

As easy as believing
If we doughed our skin a little thinner

He’d un-chrysalis his body
From the fading blues and greens and bubble up

Like so much boiling plastic
Flooding the closest star.