Real Tree

Everywhere I take my phone, it is designed for—

I am walking through the forest now with a phone
made to take to the forest

it measures my steps in dandelion stem-lengths,
stores magnificent data beneath the heart

I lose my phone call among the real trees,

I call and call, no one answers—

The forest is designed for the phone, able
to detect variety names
of mosses when

I hold my phone up close toward a tuft it

tells me: the tips of the mosses are auditory
cilia—listening to your consumable keywords—

the rest of the moss
is moss

Immune Support Hotline

They’ve since discovered all things—
even the blue light—are composed of
three things: camera / phone / calculator—

and so we call them: things
we’ve co-evolved with— medicine,
tools:

the wild plantain can clot
the buzzing of the nettle, sting that

emanates from
heart / airplane-mode / dream

What we call plane-tain leaf is known
to clot the buzzing of a mesmerizing

media player visualization, sambucus
berries known to
even clot off virus in lambs—

The dying man on the phone
asks me, would you call that evolved?