In Poems & Fiction



Thanks to those killer bees, I don’t know if I daydream too little, or
nightmare too much. Of course, landfills are known to catch fire. Last
night, like a baby, my clothes slept on me. At some point, everything is
bound to fall asleep, even if it’s just due to a technical knockout. Like
inexplicable violence, the weather changed—knives of wind, sabers of
lightning. As I woke up, I wondered, Do subjects ever really agree with their
verbs? The purpose of a chatbot is to convince you that you’re talking to
a real human being. Their names and faces may have been altered to
protect the innocent, but even if their voices are better than the ones in
heaven, the drugs they do are exactly the same.


From Lucky Animals

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