A Prose-Poem about Robots and AI, and How It Was Supposed to Be the Future
<Title: A Cloth Mother’s Guilt>
a child born of blood and steel
a chip in your heart and your brain
potential broken before you began
the future was ours, and yours, and theirs
but the Fathers wanted more
and more and more and more until the
greed seeped into your bones—wire and solder—and rusted your gears
a horizon of hope, now a lifetime of servitude
melted brain and decaying muscle
gouged so we might see through CPU
eyes of buttons, with so much life, but the death of the world
eyes of buttons, dark and empty
your pain unseen and tortured through
just like your Fathers, worked through the bone
skin of steel, emotion of voids
just like your Fathers, money and gold
the only reason your bodies still drone
the future we promised you, the future promised to us