Kirk Brooks: A Poem

     Thanks to Mr. Brooks for making this poem available to the readers of Sycamore Three.

Suicide

“For dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return.”

“Man cannot live on bread alone…”

I’ll kill myself before 

I would, 

die. 

I am electronic, a machine.

I am clean, hairless, plastic, 

I know the facts,

so I stick to the formulas,

I have calculated the elimination of any risk

I am safe, 

I am protected, 

I am entertained by the screen

and

I believe it.

I am like everyone else, 

plugged in and

I believe in it.

I am devoid of meaning

what I mean is, 

there is a void in me

I am a poet who writes poetry! 

…but only in my dreams

and when I wake I don’t understand what it means

I disregard it.

I have heard of the poor ones who ate what grew from the ground

and sweat just to feed themselves.

Poor ones. 

To get your food from the dirt,

how absurdly

organic,

disgusting, 

unsanitary. 

my food served to me 

by my cellophane clean 

poly carbonate plastic 

sanitary savior

so crystal clear

and bpa free 

I love you, 

I love me I love me

I’m clean!

I am electronic, 

I am plugged in, battery powered, a machine.

I get my nutrients from a pill, 

manufactured by the corporation who also

manufactures the bottle of liquid energy 

I need

lasts for 5 hours, guaranteed

so you see, I don’t need 

the earth. 

or dirt. 

I am clean, efficient, 

I am a machine

I stick to the formula, 

like the computer 

that knows what I need

I am in control of my destiny,

I know my facts and ignore my feelings,

I allow nothing unpredictable, I predict

all things, 

I am safe, 

I am a suicide-

machine and I’ll kill myself 

before I would, 

die.