Literature, Poem, poems, poetry

Cyborg’s afternoon

I am not interested in my own thoughts anymore

The Machine does it for me

I just lie there

contemplating these four flies at the ceiling

one of them is doing a peculiar quadrical dance

fly’s quadrille

never seen anything like that before

not that I care about the flies

not that I care about anything

People!

Trying to press my head into my hands

to consolidate, to close the circle

to calm down those algorythms

Mother

she is there too, in my head

and my lover Judas with Jezebel.

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