One cell of the human body contains all of life on earth,
and yet we sit by ourselves in the waiting room,
pretending we do not know each other.
We may imagine that we’re alone in the crowd,
and yet we all share the familial intimacy
of parent and child, brother and sister,
wife and husband.
The atoms running through our bodies today
are entangled with the far galactic lights —
we are inextricable from each other.
Outside of our imagination,
there is no such thing as distance.
Nevertheless, we don’t remember any of this.
Even now, we fail to recognize each other,
and so we are frightened, or irritated, or even
offended by the mere presence of another,
until their very existence is perceived
as a looming personal threat.
Thus we must have borders, must build fences,
must protect ourselves from each other,
must scratch and claw to defend what is ours —
our stuff, our space, our intellectual property.
Then again, perhaps we can use the others
to get what we want — a potential opportunity
to manipulate and exploit for our own self-interest.
Now we’re thinking: don’t fear them, use them!
Use them to grow our food and stock our shelves,
to build more walls and deliver the goods,
to drop the bombs from high in the air,
and then the machines will take it from there.
And then the machines will take it from there.