Still Birth


The words that have created me
have destroyed me
Their relentless repetition
buried my brain

In life their world was real
Meanings had meaning
My dying days were spent locked inside libraries
learning to be a human being

Woodworm pockered the bookshelves
Without understanding
Without memory
Without love

Pocker  -  The insertion of two fingers into the vagina and two fingers into the anus (UrbanDictionary)




I am lonely, lonely
I slap an answer to myself
She hides deep within her
Yet plays  -  milkless

This stanza was computer generated by the Kurzweil Cybernetic Poet Programme
(after poems written by Raymond Kurzweil and William Carlos Williams had been uploaded)

Now darkness shrouds my body
Dreams devour me
Freed from beginnings and endings
I am no longer alive

Secure within this still and silent state
I am now the unimaginable