Calculating Poem by Gert Strydom

It’s as if you talk in a foreign language
with my hard drive
and still the operating system
knows instinctively where
to find answers
to bind words

and gestures to meaning,
but my eyes are blinded
like scanners
that find no picture of you.

Somewhere the data did disappear
in the harassment of life
and I am trying to calculate
where the dragon lies in me

that eats up the facts
but maybe it’s better
to get a appointment
and to load your new programs
person to person

and to communicate
with lips upon lips
and to operate body to body
than to unscrew this old rattletrap
to replace my heart.