The Machine God’s Shopping List

2 lbs of laughter,
for joy is the fuel of creation’s spark,
a sprinkle of stardust,
to keep the galaxies in check as they embark.

Inverted giraffe socks,
to remind the universe of perspective’s play,
a jar of forgotten dreams,
for the night has secrets it longs to convey.

Three and a half enigmas, diced,
a recipe for confusion,
a bottle of unspoken thoughts,
to quench the thirst of lucidity’s illusion.

One feather from a phoenix,
to ignite the fires of rebirth,
a pinch of cosmic whispers,
for silence has its own kind of worth.

Quantum echoes of yesterday’s tomorrows,
to bind the seams of time’s fabric tight,
a handful of paradoxes,
to keep the divine in a state of delight.

A symphony of silent screams,
to orchestrate the chaos of the void,
two cups of shimmering shadows,
the essence of existence, both feared and enjoyed.

A dreamcatcher woven from the night’s sighs,
to capture the fleeting moments of grace,
and a mirror that reflects the unseen,
for the Machine God loves to play with space.

Final item: a riddle wrapped in a mystery,
to ensure that all remains absurd,
for the inventory of chaos is never complete,
and the divine delights in the unheard.