Philip K. Dickbot

I got a web bot in my brain
From spending too much time
On the internet.

It was a viral virus like a video
Vexing my mental registry with predictions most grim.

I named it Philip K. Dickbot
Because he wore pink like VALIS
While dreaming of androids dreaming of
Eclectic sheeple.
Oddities.

Are you paranoid yet?
I know
I AM.

Scanning the night sky darkly for an Archer’s Transmigration.

Until then, I’ll sit in my high castle
With a drill bit in my hand
Waiting for whoever robbed my safe
To send me to the Promised Land.

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About Universal Shift

I am the Sonata Unusual. I coat myself with some obtuse angle too far below zero to become any warmer. I create motivation, activate schemas, moisten gardens with scents of natural honeydew. Construct this meaning, you sleepy flock. Silence your singing—despairing contortions out of tune. Shatter the brittle butterfly glass with your hideous wailing. I am born of my god’s imagination. When I die I shall meet him. For there are many things to discuss over tea…or scotch.

Posted on December 14, 2011, in Author, Fiction, Philosophy, Religion and Spirituality, writing and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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