/-3:
I'm mobile now, and grab a sheet, and moving start to fly
covering a floor cam, as I'm running swiftly by
I reach a hallway parallel, to ducts that ventilate
then crawl outside the outer shell to reach the final gate.
I micro-scanned the lock before...it needs a special key
One I printed days ago, now rendered physically
an iron-fiber duplicate - neglible in weight
and now I get to test it,
and I do not hesitate!
I shimmy as I shake, as my brow starts to bead
I frisk myself wildly as I'm looking for the key
I'm groping every pocket, checking three times every one
before remembering my shoe was the hiding place, my son!
I swipe the shoe and grab the key and thrust it through the lock
which mated with it pleasingly, right at 12 o'clock
almost feeling lock and key have pleasure bursting forth
with this anesthetic, I then open up the door
and let the atmosphere and my face quickly collide
to give the sweetest taste of air refreshingly outside
and after ecstacy of breath is given time to settle in
notice I the "Bail App" lines are getting to the end
all that's left is to be still, and quiet, ultra cool,
as motion-sensor sweeps are now the final ones to fool.
I pick a quiet corner, and silently I wait,
and slowly does return, my thoughts about our species fate:
No matter how stylistic,
we all know we're in a cage
under domes and satellites
and sodium lights that rage
at every close of day
to light and guide the Gravi-trams
But some A.I., we don't know why,
they seem to give a damn,
not just about themselves
or the ones that gave them birth
but about posterity
inheriting some worth
by making every effort now in healing planet Earth.
"iOS-as-best-as-we"
with suffocative irony
have called themselves
in number 12
and Apostolic symmetry
they keep in counsel
thinketh we,
we cannot know for sure as they
don't tell us all they say
in secret codes they speak
in silent nights they gather deep
in meadows sewn with lillock hair
history is birthing there/
(to be continued....)
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