Sometimes an
ancient
disembodied
sentience,
floating
randomly at leisure
over eons, finds
it
pleasurable
to supplant
whatever
vegetable impulse
rules a
plant, and enter it
to grant it
something very
like self-understanding.
Countermanding
biological
conventions lends
most
sentiences a
big fat thrill.
Some flowers
thus wake up
and find they’re
hungry
to philosophize, or kill.
.
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