The progress algorithm
After death and dealings
Taxes and bankruptcy
Smiling is madness in its
Divinest sense, descendant divinity
Evolution of plurals
Oneness of connected missions
Assent, ascent, into enchantment
Time is straightway dangerous
But everything to be tamed
After the fall, after morning
What will become of us?
There is no time to hate
Only time to learn a bit
The grave would thus hinder me
When I need lifetimes to
Assimilate the ampler designs
Of industry and a little toil of love
For gains larger than myself
No time to profit, no time to reap
Only the hunger all these years
To dine at noon with algorithms
And by Big data’s decree
Look through windows of prosperity
Where information turns to
Nature’s dining rooms
To transpose a rose, is a rose
Is a golden rose of outsides
That hunger was a way
Of finding technological dynasty.
Wuji Seshat 