Ways and Means
If the wealthy escape the collective
anger of the poor just long enough
to bring about the great inflection
of a servile artificial intelligence,
the bodies of the poor become
a simple logistical problem,
disposable as any gnawed bones
of pork or beef in landfills today.
When what we're capable of
is easily assigned to robot squadrons,
what need will the wealthy have
for all the less-thans breathing
and eating and fucking themselves
ever numerous? A grave's a grave
whether marked by headstone
or GPS coordinates.
anger of the poor just long enough
to bring about the great inflection
of a servile artificial intelligence,
the bodies of the poor become
a simple logistical problem,
disposable as any gnawed bones
of pork or beef in landfills today.
When what we're capable of
is easily assigned to robot squadrons,
what need will the wealthy have
for all the less-thans breathing
and eating and fucking themselves
ever numerous? A grave's a grave
whether marked by headstone
or GPS coordinates.
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Author's Note
The future looks grand for some
Other stories by Gary Hardaway
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Or for the protein. We're almost there, I sometimes feel. *
Damn, you have a way with syllables! And other things.
Thank you, Sara.
Thank you, Matt.
oh, gosh, "a simple logistical problem, disposable as any gnawed bones of pork or beef in landfills today."
Thank you, Kitty.
Oh that last line. *
Thank you, Rachna.
Soft-spoken as ever Gary ;) I like it.
Nice bit/bite of poetic invective: "disposable as any gnawed bones."
*
Good piece.
Thank you, Neil.
Thank you, Ed.
Thank you, Bill.
Thank you, Sam.