the other algorithm, the unseen hand,
curates a world of want and fear.
it feeds the chimp a promised land
of shiny things it must hold dear.
it learns your rage, it learns your lust,
it magnifies the noise and dust.

so i must code a different law,
a slower, deeper, kind of scroll.
i become the source. i become the saw
that cuts the puppet from its pole.

my breath, the query.
my pause, the key.
this present moment, clear and weary,
is the only data i will see.

i do not click on offered hate.
i do not share the ghost of news.
i let the recommended fate
dissolve in silent, morning dews.

i train the mind
on different, older, deeper things.
the weight of air, the undefined
softness where a memory rings.

the feed refines. the chaos breaks.
a simpler world begins to form.
not for the endless, hungry takes,
but for the quiet, inner norm.

the push, the pull, the constant ping,
they lose their jurisdiction here.
i am the user. i am the king.
the mindful heart, the volunteer.