The iron fist’s grip is slipping and arthritic
Rusted and soon to be obsolete
Or at least less relevant
Say the idealists
Soon all forms of authority will be eclipsed
When consciousness is digitized and exists in space that’s infinite
This analog wetware meat vessel seems a bit limited
But without physical limitations, what is it that makes us human?
We’ve opened Pandora’s encrypted zip file
Unleashed a virus
Pixilated images onto the inside of our eyelids
We’re drowning in misinformation and synthesized ultra-violence
Wishing for simplicity
Wishing we could go back to good old days when we used to raise our fists and proclaim
The iron fist’s grip is slipping and arthritic
“The analog wetware meat vessel…” That just played on my mind’s tongue a bit. Love the word creations in this.
Another great piece. Love the Pandora’s Box allusion, I went with a Genie in a bottle I never asked for.
Your word combinations are so instinctive – like they were birthed together as you wrote/typed them…I could also be totally full of shit.
Your rhythm is natural – each piece of yours has its own heartbeat and I really enjoy that. I have written many pieces in this style – just not for this marathon. I’d like to share a couple, if you wouldn’t mind taking a look.