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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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