1519

Soon

there will be robots small enough

to enter the bloodstream but probably

too late for you and me.

1518

At some point, I gave up my youthful

dream of robotics, of handling toxic substances

with remote control arms.

1517

My hands are cold.

1516

Soon this field will be hash-marked again,

tackling dummies in formation.

1515

Here's a whole family: sad.

1514

Was it a question of oxygen to the brain?

1513

I bet this deflated football was a pancreas. 

1512

Someone has broken the lever off.

1511

Someone has squeezed the tube out.

1510

Some had used

the familiar scarecrow matrix,

others were dead inside, cloned

like modern clocks.

1509

In the field, the complex snowmen

have been kicked apart.

1508

"Bifurcation"

1507

1.21.17