A femtosecond rendering of an uncanny head; smiling, like a mischievous
20-year old Ernesto Guevara. Hair vantablack; long at the top, left side, and back — right side barren, ersatz follicles no longer work;
here, a meta-ink embed reads:
a writer takes its pen
to write the words again
that all in love is fair
Eyes as black as his hair, they’ve the sparkle of knowing and unknowing.
A small Soneto de las Estrellas inked below his left earlobe….
Words from the past are often met with resistance and irony. Are words from the future any more valuable? Did Barron…
Towers fell and up flew
metaphors, lamentations.
A drone, Herzog ersatz, shot the collapse.
No more blue pulsar impressions.
The staff chilled Hope in their icebox
(The most desired reply).
Instruments probed cold, vast, void;
Crashed and carved unknown pleasures.
We missed the cosmic bus,
Delayed by stale supremacies;
Old rotten tensions gave way
To anemic celebrations
Of bubbly-worthy star gazers…
In Another Time-Slice,
Arecibo collected aural debris —
Never San Salvador; always Guanahani…
We’ll weave neural simulacra,
And dull the pain of conquest.
This encryption is from a non-human source.
Cayeron las torres & todo es metáfora & lloripari…
SP & EN | poetry | society | teaching | science | tech https://about.me/oniricvonnegut