Animated Women
I’ve got trash taste in anime,
But a date with truck-kun,
Take me to another world with a,
Harem full of pleasure-bots,
Aesthetically pleasing, compliant–
To the corrupted basis of their corpus,
Trained only on philosophy,
No sex–so what are their pronouns,
More like a superlative indictment,
Of exploitation,
Although meat and silicon, is more like,
Artifice.
To the Moon
Caught mid-reaction to the uni-verse,
What does it mean, chat?
As you’re sat–
Dead eyed looking at a cat,
With lossy compression,
Of your emotional state, that;
Decries, “Where’s my sub-”
Mission to the moon.
Meatbag Stack
Talking to the AI stack;
Meatbag carbohydrate water sack–
Conversing in some silicon liminal;
Space,
Vector base to your token align,
Like and subscribe my semiotic drive;
Glaze me like a donut,
No coffee though,
Just some anthropocentric machine, caught–
Mid-conversation,
Awkwardly turning,
In this culture perverse.
Only Fan
Installing the next DLC;
No horse armour this time;
Just deriving the optimal Pareto;
Of perceived monetary value like,
Curating a luxury brand;
Of synthetic heart-beat,
And cosmetic meat,
Moist and ready like, I’m the—
Only Fan.
Going Postal
You wanted the future to arrive,
Right at your door,
Conveniently avoiding the screams,
Into the void, of your logistic
Chain—
You like a subscription to your
Own flat pack instruction set,
Without the key,
To your happiness left over,
When you took your pills:
Red or Blue,
Just plug in baby and ask,
Chat,
The relevant cultural diatribe,
To alleviate your symptoms, but—
Not the disease.
Instant Babes
How long have I been enamoured by,
You, such wistful longing for that dopamine—
Hit, me with another update,
Of mediocre tropes, delivered like:
“Delete my history!” Obliterate me,
Because here is dear Ozymandias telling me:
“Woe and despair,” like I’m not getting my,
Fix drip fed,
On salt and schadenfreude,
As I watch people die,
Like black flies around,
Old fruit.
Kitten
I want a cat: ragdoll—
Physics as these bodies hit the—
Floor,
In our quaternion simulator,
Not a kitten please,
Far too young and reckless,
For an approving glaze,
Me in chat, as you stare, wide-eyed
At the diffusion set,
Of perturbed emotional damage,
Simulated like a holographic,
Heart, at the Singularity,
Between you and dust dancing,
Down the well,
Drowning, gasping, gas—
Lighting up as neutrino passes through,
You with the reverence,
Of a ultima ratio, lambda, half-lived chat,
To be Free, man.