About him like a gel, the air is packed
With sound: occluded noise, like underground
Sonatas sung through water. His intact
Assembly tells a robot's tale: unwound,
Herein lies one whose name was writ in sand;
His mental mechanisms tick no more.
But whither cyborg souls? Can his unplanned,
Demanded obsolescence answer for
The sparks he held within? His metal sinks
To purgatory: blasting pits and belts,
The factory between, where plastic links
With flesh to make the modern man. He melts,
And androids grapple, as their wreckers move,
With doppleganger dreams they can't reprove.
3 comments:
All unwound and at a standstill, the faux man, ie, living mechanism descends into Dante's purgatory for machines? Religion is dancing throughout this amazing dream of reality and society, the future eerily chilling. Is this the usual haunting representation of modern man as merely a machine programmed to do the unknown creator's bidding?
Fascinating, thought-provoking, delightful and so deep. Your allusions get me in over my head.
Do you like my trying to make note of consonance, assonance and alliteration, internal rhyming, pointing out instances? L13/14 delightful "d's", all the "m's" in L12, etc.
His name writ in sand signifies man's transience, and reminds me of Shakespeare. Excellent.
Aye, purgatory for machines. But just as man here is faux man, the creator is a faux creator. The line "Herein lies one..." is a nod again to Keats, in this case his tombstone. Narratively, this is where I wanted to bring QED/Kilroy down into the core, into the belly of the beast, into death. Unless he dies, he cannot be reborn, and cannot thus take that step along the course of the monomyth.
La, the theology has a familiarity to it and yet a twist that has eerily twisted connotations.
Ah, thanks for mentioning Keats, I do recall now that line/? but too vaguely...
Thank you for the explanations, I appreciate them very much.
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