the golden haze
October 4, 2012
light squares swarm with golden haze
over trampled lawns when
that fat prick
slides up and cuts the wire that goes into my skull.
old dead dishes stood
while she fumbled with the toolkit.
she looked at me fiercely
and it got my brain working again.
cut-up piece generated by prosaic from a corpus of 30 cyberpunk novels. a part of the cyberpunk prophecies series.
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