Saturday, December 17, 2005

looking at this electric drill i can't help but see hundreds of world machines jostling their very own bolts and screws loose under their own monotonous powers- the tech droids come to me in the cold tundra nights with the breeze and their shining stainless steal probiscuses enter my flesh more like the jowels of rabid pitt bulls then a surgical needle- when the Control Board first issued the implants we all had a good laugh that the advanced mathematics and the quantum level physics were the first of the black arts to disapear, their truth proving to be the most imaginative fabrications of all- the cylinders side by side in my guts are churning and gurgling now, pushing my heart and it's cardiac muscles into an overdrive completely unimagined in YOUR TIME- mech creatures with their eight sided wings and phlorescent green ocular cavities have gathered at the windows again- on the stiller nights, me and jose sit on the front stoop and listen so hard that we almost hear the solar wind scattering bits of our atmosphere into the nebulae- the oddest thing about the neutron ray is that there's absolutly no way to know if they've passed through us, i suppose one just has to assume, with the odds and all out here, you know- out there on the neon horizon we have to marvel at all the gleam of these alloys under that electric orange star- "Why did the stars stop falling, Daddy?"- the threads tear out accompanied by a noise that no ear can hear simply because it refuses to

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