Still Birth

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

In life their world was real.
Their meanings had meaning.
My dying-days were spent locked within libraries
learning to be human

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 have devoured me.
Freed from beginnings and endings
I no longer live.

Secured within this still and silent state
I have become the unimaginable