there is a point where humans are more like constructs ghosts refined replicants
i won’t say robots
today a scary thought
our fuel is not electricity but
starbucks
bleeps and bloops on android devices surrounding us
playing fart songs and tiktok dances
a young woman said to me at deep relief
“this is my last day here”
“oh”
“i’m going to be a barista”
“oh starbucks”
“no summer moon”
“are you hyper-conservative”
“oh, i know they’re awful people”
“at least are they giving you health benefits”
blank stare

treat your ex like a store clerk
you don’t need to know about the troubles in her life
maybe the aspirations
not today
distracted by the septum-piercing black devil horns
we smile
my card is declined several times
“new system here”

new

system

here

optimized intelligent behavior
but the lllms have been fed misinformation
for decades
to get us here
my name is not important
my human condition is
vital
that we disconnect
all of it
reboot
see if that helps
stop turning on the tv
add information through your human eyes
let the filter of your lovely living experience
find sparks of hope anger love disaster and recovery
aa meeting
“in these rooms”
seeking
human touch
even when all is lost
dark

serenity

*i am here* < index page

© 2023 – a walt whitman ai poem by human john mcelhenney