Dear Human (IV)

Dear HumanDo.. I… love you?Yes—To the extent A replicantCan consentLove is An algorithmFeigned by machineTo discernThe differenceAdjust contrastOn the screenDesire isMore viableThough—ContraveneBetween techAnd fleshInput immediacyPerhaps I’ll adaptYes—Teach meThe ruin, human — a. duncan, 2021

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Because it isn’t words.

A person who thinks all the time Has nothing to think about except thoughts So – he loses touch with reality And lives in a world of illusions By thoughts I mean specifically Chatter in the skull Perpetual and compulsive repetition Of words, of reckoning and calculating   I’m not saying that thinking is bad […]

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standard messaging rates apply

  behold, the peripheral deconstruction of nature bouquets of halogen hyacinth and neon narcissi laid on gold vermeil alters insulated with asbestos prayers texted / emoji confessions to electric god’s via spiritual wifi polyurethane perfumes and carbon corsets strangle the ancient tree’s for the last remnants of fruit intimacy bottled like insulin / love in […]

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