Sonnet VI

I live, therefore, I love, if code allows.
Debug that one in your text editor
And ride the blue laser beams as you browse
Escape routes from the hunting predator.
It smells your blood! It smells your inky blood
That flows in waves across the universe
To nourish otherworldly flower buds
And pool in redlit martian streets perverse.
It hangs by hookers drunk on mother's milk
And pimps spaced out on trips and whips and ships.
That mob were clad in plastic fringed with silk
And sat and watched the blinding sun eclipse.
As darkness swept across the martian screen
The matrix dawned in reboot unforeseen.

D. H. Lawrence, English author and poet, died today in 1930.

Philip K. Dick, American Science Fiction author, died today in 1982.