the faceless, in my dreams, play at chores i can't comprehend,
leaning over consoles - big powerplant-style consoles,
neither typing nor jabbing buttons,
just sitting, attuned to the lay of the world according to indicator lights
i shout to them
of course, they can't shout back
but they don't even flinch
zero acknowledgement
i can't tell if they have ear-holes,
whether they're ignoring me, or can't hear me
i guess i should consider myself lucky
if one turned its faceless face toward me
i'm sure i'd shit a dream brick
