'in the society of principled minds'
oh, pale young regulator with her accidental
hands,
controlled by flexible casing and wire,
do you sit comfortably wile your consciousness is
harnessed to a certain flesh?
she says to me 'the problem with
androids
is that they are not enthusiastic,' and i wonder
at the flitches that have
veneered her face. does it hurt you, faint
bureaucrat, that you hunt for fire nonetheless?
'however, the promethean curse seems to remain;
the android hunts for fire,' she pours these liquid
words
into my ear. lulled by her rattle and hum, my reptilian
brain sits warming in the sun - anesthetized.
'doubt, sloth, and vice are missing yet, but why?' i ask
from behind my curtain and she licks the velveteen
with an inspector's sanguinary
smile.
'isn't the assurance of truth a louder voice? a
clearer one?' she seeps.
'the desire to pass on the fullness of belief,
can it be found in an indifferent android? an
un-suffered
android?' the ventilation of her pneumatic
lungs bristling down the length
of the rosary spine that contracts while she weeps.
'but we are not blind to predetermined nullity,'
blares the voice-box in a tinny hoarse
moan
'but are free of it!' now full of vigor
yet lacking the starry eyes of a youth
veiled to the ever-darkening future we've prepared.
oh, febrile faculty with your polymorphic
mouth
you've seen an eternity without life,
encouraging the androids
to flourish in the fog of denial and despair.