Poems

Poem Written in 2036 By My Robot Replacement by Evan Simeone
When biotech fulfills its destiny
when throngs of perfect cyborgs stroll the street
we will at last have borne the progeny
we always brag of. Why not donate meat?

Why not ourselves? The code to build our eyes
will change the world. The genes that code our feet
will be unfurled for experts who devise
what future selves? Of course this gross deceit

is plainly that. Of course the plan will fail.
Of course we'll do it anyway. This bleak
Eventuality must not prevail!
But time is strong and poetry is weak.

This sonnet can't prevent the robot me.
(I wonder will its poems archaic be?)