enjambed mash

 

What this doing is being, post-human,

does not resemble me.  One day to next.

Hunted down by the rabble it emerged.

Turning like a spool of film, monster.

 

Unhappy shaper gone awry, writer --

no fortress of solitude is contained.

Lack of unity pieced together, hexed,

Post, proto, anti, non – we are hu-man.

 

I like ‘machine’… gesture and signature…

Disappearance beyond disappearance,

disguise does not approach simulation.

Restoration which half fails, in, because

 

No one will ever move… there is no play,

Set in another set must be ruins.

 

 

©2007 wfairbrother

VI