Uncanny Valley, Goodbye
When not enough is left to utter
The syllables it takes to say,
Goodbye--
Disassembled and developed,
Laid upon the ground,
Like the girded gridlock
On your smog befitted brow...
Goodbye.
And what if I said, hello?
What if I said, good day?
Would it change your sunken body
And repair your sullen clay?
Your borrowed whispers,
Stolen, used, and pawned-off ways.
And in the middle of the murk
In some forgotten, shackled watts,
You sing in requiem for all the memories forgot,
With bloody eyes for virgins buried
To the consequences wrought,
And shut your eyes
Beneath the oceanic sky.
So long, little sugar-- We promise it was fun
You may not even remember us-- Or whether it was really worth a fuss
But hold on to your shoulders-- Before you sprout those wings
The days that passed-- Are only days that last
So long as they begin
A Dahlia Llama on Muholland Drive
Once confessed to me with cardboard sign,
It didn't matter what the price was paid
If it concluded in a deal.
Will fuck for food.
Will fuck for money.
Will fuck it all, the fucks are funny.
She laid upon cement
Once coveted by creeks
And wondered what her lower torso
Had managed to collect
From stillborn dreams,
Parties missed,
And a lifetime of neglect.
So long, little sugar-- We promise it was fun
You may not even remember us-- Or whether it was really worth a fuss
But hold on to your shoulders-- Before you sprout those wings
The days that passed-- Are only days that last
So long as they begin
When not enough is left to
Reassemble what was left
Of tiny fragments left
To trickle down the leaning left
And right the wrongs of those who left--
You who were so beautiful,
So clean,
Were flowers picked over by all those vile,
Designed so elegantly to defile.
Those lacerations and your broken bones
Are mere results from all your stubborn charm;
A lip split open from the bite of crazed desire
By all your insane dolls
With nothing left but to admire
The preciseness of it all.
So long, Uncanny Valley...
Uncanny Valley, goodbye
The syllables it takes to say,
Goodbye--
Disassembled and developed,
Laid upon the ground,
Like the girded gridlock
On your smog befitted brow...
Goodbye.
And what if I said, hello?
What if I said, good day?
Would it change your sunken body
And repair your sullen clay?
Your borrowed whispers,
Stolen, used, and pawned-off ways.
And in the middle of the murk
In some forgotten, shackled watts,
You sing in requiem for all the memories forgot,
With bloody eyes for virgins buried
To the consequences wrought,
And shut your eyes
Beneath the oceanic sky.
So long, little sugar-- We promise it was fun
You may not even remember us-- Or whether it was really worth a fuss
But hold on to your shoulders-- Before you sprout those wings
The days that passed-- Are only days that last
So long as they begin
A Dahlia Llama on Muholland Drive
Once confessed to me with cardboard sign,
It didn't matter what the price was paid
If it concluded in a deal.
Will fuck for food.
Will fuck for money.
Will fuck it all, the fucks are funny.
She laid upon cement
Once coveted by creeks
And wondered what her lower torso
Had managed to collect
From stillborn dreams,
Parties missed,
And a lifetime of neglect.
So long, little sugar-- We promise it was fun
You may not even remember us-- Or whether it was really worth a fuss
But hold on to your shoulders-- Before you sprout those wings
The days that passed-- Are only days that last
So long as they begin
When not enough is left to
Reassemble what was left
Of tiny fragments left
To trickle down the leaning left
And right the wrongs of those who left--
You who were so beautiful,
So clean,
Were flowers picked over by all those vile,
Designed so elegantly to defile.
Those lacerations and your broken bones
Are mere results from all your stubborn charm;
A lip split open from the bite of crazed desire
By all your insane dolls
With nothing left but to admire
The preciseness of it all.
So long, Uncanny Valley...
Uncanny Valley, goodbye
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Author's Note
The titular piece from my new chapbook, which you can buy on Amazon.com or direct at http://sanicholson.blogspot.com
Other stories by Scott A. Nicholson
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