in the age of flesh.

i got real into my feels the last few weeks about how many things there are in my life that constantly need to be attended to at any given time. this phrase, “robot in the age of flesh,” haunted me. it was one of my favorite moments as a writer; when something comes to you that feels so good, you know that it was divinely inspired. i truly believe the best things that “i” have ever written weren’t written by me at all, but through me. this phrase begged to be plonked in the beginning of something—and while it may have better suited a longer piece, my current bandwidth has been limited to poems as of late.

-xx-

Allie

I am a robot in the age of flesh;

I am productive by design.

The output must always exceed the input;

this is dictated by science.

I am a machine in the age of man;

I manufacture more than you supply.

There is always time for more to be made;

this is dictated by god.

I am rusting in the age of blood;

Unable to fulfill your request.

Yes, I understand you must discard the refuse;

this is dictated by Progress.

But still, I dream.

I dream of joy in the age of fear.

I dream of purpose in the age of irrelevance.

I dream of life in the age of death.

I dream that I am anything but

a robot in the age of flesh.