By Ann K. Schwader
6 June 2011
All men are created equal but we
can fix that now:
for our rewired /reloaded minds,
the pristine ping of clockwork hearts
with crystal chips & atom beats,
a nudge to certain balky glands.
All men are defeated equal yet we
fixate on more:
some fivescore years
at least before our dread of dark,
a labyrinth of diagrams
denying merely mutant change,
the weight of tech against Thoth's scale.
All men are repeated equal till we
stand fixed as this:
a tribe of one
beneath its polished mirror moon,
bereft of stars & flesh & all
unshaped unbidden miracles,
these aliens we made ourselves.