tremble clef

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

LB, "Jealous Guy (Poeme Syncope)" (1998)

The robot sits, broken, on the floor. The hum of his circuits has slowed to a crawl, and he now seems like a mere metallic shell. "Why is my face moist?" he asks. "Are these...tears? Is this what it means to feel...e-mo-tions?" He stops to consider, but it is a struggle. His face is now completely wet, and the tears fall freely. "Have I at last become hu-man?" His face flickers with the light of recognition. But perhaps it is just another fuse blowing. "Am I," he asks one more time, but quietly, weakly now, as if barely able to get out one last question, "now simply a cliché in a crapass sci-fi movie, or worse, in a bad Daft Punk concept album? Because, seriously, fuck that shit."


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