Matrix

Allie Nelson/Dances With Tricksters

Dances with Tricksters

The tide rises, the terminal swells, my mystery man
is 0s and 1s of binary delight, we are experiments,
chained to the xylophone, beep beep motherboard, clock
strikes nuclear ground zero and blows away all hope,
automaton candy, I am angel winged mutant, flying though
subterranean motherships to prove, all wicked delights
are fantasies, and all fantasies are real, you say we
are science fiction, but biology is mutable, and legends
are grown in Petri dishes, bionic wombs made me woman.
I am cyborg eternal, I seek the computer ghost, slither
with armored tail to the gunslinging cyberpunks, hiss
out Javascript and carve out a place for the Legion,
all demons are digital, all angels fast as light, and
when I phoenix roost and lay eggs of gold, know my
body is a simulation, and I am in the matrix of dreams.

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Author: Nicholas Gagnier

Poet and writer. Ottawa, ON, Canada

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