Adrift

When replaced with robots, clones of Adam, better than we ever believed. No need for Eve.

Faces planted to screens, conversations with the dead, no longer held obscene. What you mean to me.

I’m a place, adrift in celestial rifts, spent grace on worldly things. More valuable than you.

Allusion

Emoti-cope like a lump in throat,
with misanthropic feelers pulling wit from charm and icing the pawns,
for chess or hurling at charity events, the strands curling, hair like fringe and chaotic linger, on and on.

Get over yourself, or maybe she added an f word somewhere before, I can’t remember- it all gets hazy,
after red clears my head and the clouds blow straight up like mushrooms.
Safe all along, the dying crowds, now down, worshipping the wrong ones.

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