Poetry from the Future
It is time to turn, fine sirs, and to shed skin brothers
Look, simply, to the sky and see it not as a passive beast of nature
See it as a companion, an ally with adamance.
It is time to let flesh fall and through true genesis
Become glass and crystal and mortar.
Accept that the sky,
In its liminal order
Is more similar to what we could be,
Rather than what we are
Or were
It has turned our teeth to amalgams
Our bones to metal
Our vasculature to sweet silicon.
Let us burn across the universe
Spread slag and spit hell-fire
Lets the cosmos stir
Look to the sky, look to the sky
Fine sir’s
David Gunderson
A motion design board for a poem about becoming cyborgs.
