Birth is my favorite miracle
not just because
it’s the most common
not just because it’s responsible
for everyone I love, but because
it takes so long. Imagine if we still used
dial-up. Imagine all that gestation. Imagine me
and our favorite robot butler next to you while you push, although
you won’t have to imagine because we’ll be there, and
even if we’re not, our clones will be, or maybe
hologram projections. I would argue
that birth is the best miracle, although it is
not suited to radio or television, and certainly not
the internet. The juicer is designed to juice, just as
the newborn is designed to be cute. This comparison
is getting old, but I have been told
that this kind of logic can be used
to prevent mold. Within the workshop
milieu, a whole alphabet
symbolizes the composition of time
and place. Reconstitute your consciousness.

Leave your defense mechanisms alone, but
conduct psychotherapy nonetheless.

The iPhone is always with us, and you
are always with us. We are concerned with
the aesthetics of letters. Letters are signs for sounds:
the language we speak, our architecture. We are
concerned with chisels & tools of transport & the engraver, all
the gimcrack stucco, printing & piety & double-entry
book-keeping, not to mention punch-cutting: machine-set,

upright & noncursive, italic & unemotioned, there are
so many options. You have
a sans-serif face; I wanna check out
your cerebrospinal fluid. I’m supposed to be using this time
to speak about newborn children and computers, so

I will end with this: let’s have kids, and let’s
name them after locations in California.

Tyler Friend is an apricot/human hybrid grown in Tennessee who received an MFA from Vermont College of Fine Arts. Their chapbook Ampersonate is available from Choose the Sword Press, and their poems have appeared in Tin House, Hobart, and the window of a bar called Charlie O’s.