ForkWord
Poems by Inchiki
machine head
the original maths
that impregnated
these gears
rolling about the sun-gear
this stampede
of automata
is soothingly in tune
from a distance
but up close
it hurts
unresolved
occasionally
the envelope opens
revealing its teeth
as a poet
i long
to escape
the paralysis of mechanics
for this my heart throbs
and my pen wants a fuck
