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Literature Text
Promise
an ungraspable paradise,
like a haschich to the nostrils
watch the polyp-brained wifes
hurl their kidneys-their value in green-
and their families
-why yes, a toddler is worth
several things in the markets-
in order to watch you froth and yell
like a preaching televsion
that slurps down
audiential cranii.
an ungraspable paradise,
like a haschich to the nostrils
watch the polyp-brained wifes
hurl their kidneys-their value in green-
and their families
-why yes, a toddler is worth
several things in the markets-
in order to watch you froth and yell
like a preaching televsion
that slurps down
audiential cranii.
Literature
Robot Run Away
Robot Run Away
It hurts my legs burn from the running. My lungs are barley getting any air. At this rate they will catch me and kill me. I don’t want to die. I look around for a place to hide. An alley with a dumpster. Its something.
I slip into the alley and move the dumpster just enough for me to hide behind it. A couple minutes later I hear them run by, yelling at each other that they need to catch me.
This is their fault. They created me an AI that helps people. I was given to someone as their personal AI, I did what I was told I followed orders, but something happened. over time the fake heart I had became real. I grew fond of the
Literature
Galaxy Skin
Galaxies look like milk i spilt on the lino
ethereal,
it's true;
Nut's body was is freckled with Taraxacums and gaiety.
She tells me it's like design,
tells me that, even though my cavity chest is full
of empty space held steadfast by stardust,
that it's all God's volition, that it's all art.
she tells me that numbers/words are the window to the soul,
that I should write about emptiness and glitter and detritus in the waves happiness
Literature
Vortex
Round and round and round she goes,
circling the drain, circling the drain,
the art of perpetual motion embodied,
tantalizing the heart of slender glass,
shadow play through condensation,
the sign of recent loss and future thirst,
never stopping, never escaping,
circling, circling, circling.
When the glass is crushed
in desperation or in rage,
she flits to the next,
butterfly phantom,
who cannot be drowned,
no matter the poison.
She is intoxication,
the wild eyes, the edge
of bliss and despair, dark paths
into mechanical sunlight,
the transformation of meaning
into temporal progression.
The damage that can never be paid for.
She is the il
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Edit Aug.24: Thanks to 
for the correction on "cranium/cranii.
for the correction on "cranium/cranii. © 2015 - 2024 oviedomedina
Comments9
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Awesome, awesome piece.