Tomorrow or Today

Story in sonnets part four

Photo by William J Spirdione

A quirk of nature took away my smell.
It helps when I am swimming in methane.
This fake, this fraud, this sham, this soul from hell,
Imperfectly links to the machine brain.

The evolutionary pressure on
our natural selection damns us all.
Sometimes, a mistake in replication,
Gives us an advantage; if I recall.

I must escape the city and the grave,
by swimming thru fuel pipes, thinking of things.
I once read a story, I didn’t save,
That had a map and the path that it brings.

Oh wait, I don’t have a body or brain.
One needs a self to have something to feign.

To be continued…