Sunday, February 17, 2013

Exception -A Poem


The first man-robot was lost,
unable to locate his position
inside the suit of armor.
The pieces of brain left in the neuroprocessor,
the mind of the metal man
(for if the soul exists, the brain
is its residence).

A sexta-core and the human brain,
firing and processing every possible variable
except
whether the suit should continue the journey.

So the metal man stands, lost inside
a recurving, revolving riddle,
the same riddle that plagued him
when he was only flesh.

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