Tech craze,
Zuck pays.
New space,
house Hayes.
Buy vase,
few Ks.
Partays,
loud bass.
Work days,
bus chase.
Delays,
long face.
Thick haze,
cold Mays.
Years’ daze,
fast pace.
Lone gaze,
sad phase.
“Need praise,”
shrink says.
Replace
old ways.
Mom stays,
embrace.
Her Grace,
allays.
Her love,
always.
The doctor,
the entrepreneur,
the engineer,
and the ghost
sit in a rented red Fiat
endlessly driving
from Nice
to the winding bends
of the Alps.
Cheap Thrills
from cheap speakers
echoes in the crisp mountain air,
but our ears register only
the sound of youthful invincibility
and infinite potential.
Every year
I find myself pulled back
into that tiny car in my memory
and I think,
It must have been a hot summer,
because the snow melted
and formed this tear in my eye.
I followed every coefficient
backpropagated every label
but for all the good
of ten million data points
and a thousand machines I taught
to learn how humans
“behave”
I myself
never learned
why she changed her mind
about her love for me
on the coldest sunny day
that summer in Portugal
on days
she sleeps
my muse
i light
a candle
and imagine
the wisps
that billow
in reverse!
coalescing into
the vein
in my
forehead;
it pulses
and carries
mango coconut
-scented ideas
to me.