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.