an engineering rush :: unanswering

i can't help but wonder

you see i foresee
the cry of fundamentalists every time
"thou shalt not see more than me
nor act upon it"

i see life not the active flesh
i like to find that gently yields

but consciousness and be
in clouds of quantum chance
or digital virtual data
or what the geeks threw up tomorrow

to run computer simulations
with consciousness contained
with minds to ask of us the questions
we howl at gods
when love is bitch dead
our answer's
what else than silence is platitude

if the great religious thinkers
have only consistent wishful thoughts
and the ethically whimpering
can only let their fear reply
by killing those with open eyes

then what can a comfortable poet
sitting in a bright english house
on a sunny august dawn

image: poem



new scientist
a song so dire
the argument
another bitch
recreated arts
the game
oh gods
rushed off

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