Chinese Room
You spoke in languages I couldn’t know;
Everything you did, you did for show.
I’ll be glad when I can let you go,
With the dream I thought I would outgrow.
But
how
I
balked
When you peeled it off,
How everything held dear was dropped,
When I watched you half undress,
The physicality of your breath,
That I'd take away with one touch or less.
So don’t mind the scars
Or the open wounds;
I'm an artist in what I should not do.
And as in translation, I was lost in you.
A sociopath declared immune,
A machine within a Chinese room.
Don’t mind the shaky hands,
The bottle tops left loose,
The high hopes
Where I hung the noose.
C'est la vie --
At least for me.
Don’t mind the buggy eyes
When I ask to stay tonight,
The stammer
When I ask why we can’t be together.
Yeah, you love him,
It’s so
Ordinary.
And you are so much better.
--
In reference to the Chinese Room thought experiment by John Searle.
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