Poetry, Writing

Speciation

Rows and rows of wandering minds,
not zombies,
not the definition
of a human as  represented in
Huckleberry Finn.
Not flamboyant like Kerouac.
Not mindless like Orwell warned.
Just adrift in a technological cloud,
more lively in a cyber-realm,
while holding packages in
one hand,
coins
in the other,
waiting to pay
for a bite of happiness.
The  machines are singing:
clack clack clack
crush crush crush
thud thud thud!!
A serenade of doom
and living.

 

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