I Am the Open Source

I am the Open Source;

 

I don’t have to go anywhere,

or do anything.

 

I don’t have to cleanse my space with incense,

or sleep with a sigil under my pillow.

 

I don’t have to doll myself up

with false eyelashes and perfume.

 

I don’t have to get down on my knees

and pray for a sign.

 

“You’re so uppity!”

“Have some humility!”

 

I don’t have time for that;

none of us do.

 

I want to be flooded

with the blue-greens,

 

and burned

by the red-hots,

 

carried away with gusts

of swirling windstorms,

 

pinned to the Earth by the gravitational pull — all

available to me,

 

at my beck

and call.

 

Inside of me

(not outside);

 

all the rituals

simply flourishes

 

like icing roses

on a cake.

 

I am the cake;

I am the open source.