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All fell Down Chapter Eleven


Do I sound strange to you?

            I know I must.  I hear it myself sometimes and I wonder if I’ve always sounded like this.  So robotic.  So cold.  So pre-programmed.

            When I dress now I make a point to stare at myself in the mirror for exactly 45 seconds.  I have to see myself.  I have to know that I am someone.  That I was someone.  I have to see that I am a boy with black hair cut very short.  I am a boy with green eyes.  I am a boy with a hard nose.  I am a boy with fine eyebrows.  I am a boy with long eyelashes. I am a boy with a small mouth.  I am a boy with high cheekbones. I am a boy.

            But every day I sound less and less like myself.  I say yes to the orders they give me.  I sit in the chair when they tell me to and I absorb my enhancements.  I watch the visual recordings of the war and I see cities end.  I see New York disintegrate.  I see London vanish in a flash.  I see Tokyo and Moscow and Kinshasa and Rome and Rio and Sydney cease to be.  I see the Fell ships descending upon the earth.  They remind me of a swarm of bees.  They remind me of a flock of crows.  The earth is their carrion.  The earth is carrion.

            I don’t know if I’ve seen a swarm of bees or a flock of crows.  That’s what I mean when I ask you if I sound strange.  When I say that the images remind me of those things I mean the images make a connection with the core system within my brain and I upload images of swarms of bees and flocks of crows.  I upload my memories.


About michaeleganpoetry

Liverpool based poet and editor. I have had four pamphlets of poetry published, most recently After Stikklestad (Knives, Forks and Spoons Press, 2010). Penned in the Margins published my first collection, Steak & Stations, in 2010.

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