Construct
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If God were an architect and Life,
A denominator of base products --
Are we then mere jellies in a vat,
Existing for the next stabbing impulse?
I am Superman with an invisible gun,
My body is a rough of ones and zeros,
With entrails gutted out to make room
for pure, unadulterated vice.
Save this peccadillo I am anybody:
I could even be the one who gives you
your new b_reasts or a next-to-discrete lift.
Tear sheets off your face until there is none left.
Will that be all, lovely Galatea?
I'll sculpt you a brand new face,
throw darts at your wild black heart.
Strangle, silently, this Pygmalion constuct. -
My problem with this poem is how does stanzas 1 and 2 relate to stanzas 3 & 4? Hmm. Let me read this again.
By the way, typo error, last line last word. -
LetÂ’s see what we have here, hmmÂ… Religion, Architecture, Mathematics, Chemistry (?), Psychology (?), Greek Mythology, Plastic Surgery, Biology, Science Fiction, Pop Culture (?), etc.
Frankly I am getting confuse here, PB can you please enlighten me? Thanks.