Something Found, Something Created

I watch this show that's edgy
Like my therapist's lasting contribution
Both kind of ironic voyeurism
And a sense of wish fulfillment
Because they've both been paid to be my friend
"And if I like it, I might twitter..."
Like some bird about food or sunlight or danger...

The manger-scene holds the arrangement
Estrangement from controversy leaves little but method
Like Freud and his projected daddy issues
Perhaps that's myth, perhaps that's truth...
In Real Life the complicated breaks leaving crumbs
That are then consumed, too, by natures recycling earth and birds
Rather than gossip, whether behind closed doors or public screen.

The manger-scene holds the method
One family, angels, wise-men, and shepherds
All figuring out how to win and what prize they might choose
In a still, and silent night, they got together and networked
They figured, gifted, worked, conversed, and probably ate energy
Like any CPU with ticking silicon chip sipping electricity slowly

And outside boardroom or makerspace or manger-scene,
Enacted by surly bean capricious with dreams,
Plans and methods escape the singular, inform the plural
Indistinct from ingenuity or individualism.. as conceit or invention
Why not? we're mobile unlike some tree made from silicon dioxide
Or doped silicon and fibreglass for that matter on motherboard.

We can be anything we want.  Do it all...
And dream the possible in our dreaming of everything