You take weeks to make wrought iron fence
that the big machine can make in minutes

To separate things, waxed paper
To keep things smartly confined

Electronic fences made in seconds
Faster and faster, a dielectric glass

Insulates you from the tang of life
you dare not touch such a thing, it

Just dropped in your lap
charging and warming

And above your head, in the sky
a pulsing fabric monitors hearts

If you stretch out your hands
you can feel tingling in gaps

of pure potential, assembling
without crashing or a sound

The crashing is left to you
to imagine or to command