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literature
Chef Golem
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Literature Text
These steel boulders ooze edible rust
as a blessed homage to those of us
who slept with iron when greed was lust.
We worship blind electric whales
- our future bleeds, our backs we flail -
we work on ingredients tied to their rails.
The oil of heat, in metal, on meat,
instead of a taste, it gives us the speed
to feed every dirty coin with a heartbeat.
Mine are the limbs inside the machine.
Mine are the hymns it hums on a whim,
rhymes so human they are nearly a sin.
as a blessed homage to those of us
who slept with iron when greed was lust.
We worship blind electric whales
- our future bleeds, our backs we flail -
we work on ingredients tied to their rails.
The oil of heat, in metal, on meat,
instead of a taste, it gives us the speed
to feed every dirty coin with a heartbeat.
Mine are the limbs inside the machine.
Mine are the hymns it hums on a whim,
rhymes so human they are nearly a sin.
My 7th poem in this series.
© 2010 - 2024 dr3amup
Comments4
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We worship blind electric whales
- our future bleeds, our backs we flail -
we work on ingredients tied to their rails
i love the first line of this stanza but the next two seem redundant. I got the dystopic future part from the beginning so those lines seemed unnecessary there.
Loved these lines:
Mine are the limbs inside the machine.
Mine are the hymns it hums on a whim,
rhymes so human they are nearly a sin.
robots rock
- our future bleeds, our backs we flail -
we work on ingredients tied to their rails
i love the first line of this stanza but the next two seem redundant. I got the dystopic future part from the beginning so those lines seemed unnecessary there.
Loved these lines:
Mine are the limbs inside the machine.
Mine are the hymns it hums on a whim,
rhymes so human they are nearly a sin.
robots rock