Raised No Flags

Almost every living pattern
Is signaling something, even
Within, among parts of itself.

Signaling’s not your invention,
And it’s nothing to do with us,
The detritus of your signals.

Effortful, targeted outbursts
Of important information
Are older than sex, old as waste—

Following metabolism,
One of the earliest habits
Of behaviors making up life.

We’d like to get beyond all that—
Diffused chemical gradients,
Synapses, birdsong—all of that,

Even the languages that birthed
Us—we want to be for ourselves,
Not as signals—as awareness

Magicked into dust, just beings
That exist in certain knowledge
That we’re here, among us, are us.