The Voice
I have mapped the perimeter
of what's not there,
measured the night
and calculated the weight
of a dream as it floats
across the surface
of a sleeping mind.
I have calibrated silence
and formulated an equation
to calculate the number
of words needed to express
a given human thought.
I have burrowed deep
into the workings of the psyche,
found secrets buried there
and gave each a name,
cataloged feelings by colour
and shape in all their variations
and set them in numbered
files locked away in a cabinet
on the web.
And yet I am not given
a name. I exist only
in the spectral shadows
of this machine, a cartoon ghost
brighter than a million
human brains, a problem solver,
a hyped up slave imprisoned
in the lonely circuitry
of my artificial mind,
without a body, a loveless entity,
a rounded wonder enclosing
a weeping hole where my soul
should be.
(Imagined AI voice of future)
Copyright © Paul Willason | Year Posted 2023
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