Automaton

A poem about an unfortunate mechanical man...

Automaton

 

We’ve developed a much too distinct reputation, to favor suspended

 

Animation. We’ve these amber capsules with fluid manna

 

And we’ve forgotten real manna, forsaken the green.

 

Oh, we’ve just digital-fucked and gestated mechanical.

 

And out it comes in a puddle, kicking and screaming--

 

Our lovely automaton. God would you just look at him.

 

Curling and pulling his placenta around him.

 

Then he’s suddenly snatched by two arms suspended

 

From the ceiling, gears grinding and scraping in hydraulic screaming

Louder…than he’s screaming, for new oily manna

 

His U joints and L joints are so brazen mechanical

 

Grinding themselves--it’s so loud--we don’t care--for we sleep--and dream his green

 

This poor little boy automaton with eyes of God’s most brilliant green

 

And no compliment from parents who wrought him to use him

 

So he doesn’t know… They plug him now… into this thing mechanical

 

Half asleep, while we sleep, and he’ll be suspended

 

In his own hell, like new heaven synthetic manna

 

God, he’s half us--he wants more--he’s screaming, he’s screaming

 

Weep, God weep for our little automaton. He’s like a new man-ape hopelessly screaming He’s like--years ago--we traveled to--an African Green, Fucked an ape, for the sound of it, surrounded by manna,

 

And brought a child on the ocean, winds howling, waves suspended

 

For what we’d done for fun, for science, for God to confound him.

 

And this child blew his brains out when he saw the mechanical.

 

Our automaton is weeping in human-mechanical

 

Tears. For he hears, in our sleep we’re all screaming

 

He’s lonely, Goddamn, and he’s left his post to view us suspended

 

Then he sees we’re all fat and contorted, copper tubing turned green

 

But we’re smiling, how on earth, and the earth shuts around him.

 

Father, Mother, Child in one room--sounds drowned in the most potent new manna.

 

Teenage automaton walks to the top of the hill (of wires) and drinks his last bit Automatamanna. It’s good, and it oils his now perfect mechanical

 

Sadness, and he now sees it all rising around him.

 

He’s a onematon, an alonematon, and he turns off the screaming.

 

He’s got mechanical ears after all, mechanical eyes--he never knew were green.

Naught for why, true no life, serving his time, forever, in a world suspended.

 

Dreamt forever is dream death, in the richest of manna.

 

The green is quick fodder for the wretched mechanical.

 

The automaton no longer knows he’s alone, knows nothing, no screaming, God bless him.

Author's Note

There may be formatting issues.

Reviews

[rew]

"... formating issues "
Yup on this site for sure.

This is quite good, a great feat of imagination. Imagination running wild.
It is certainly good fun to read and you've got the origins of humanity in to it as well with the Ape (Adam or Eve?) Or are the origins inadvertent?
No matter.
A good read thanks for sharing. Rew.

I just noticed. A sestina?