Cyborg Romantics
M
Mark Heathcote
0
Altın Yaprak
Garbage is collected and recycled.
Junk, after all, components large or small
They are fed on conveyor belts—vomited.
Old toys like a bike, a tyrannosaur
Gears within gears are also remoulding.
It's the rise of robots near sentient
Fulfilling sexually, moaning
In all the right places, there is no concealment!
So easy-going, till their consciousness
Pricks them and requires more recognition;
Sentient beings, fully optimised
Making choices of their own volition,
The lines of what it is to be human blear.
What's reality never more unclear?
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş