Extinct
The last angry scream
was heard in circa three zero one six,
said the Committee For Conservation
of Emotional Diversity.
Plundered by Prozac,
anger management
and breathing skills,
It died at the turn of the century.
In its place, it spawned
a new religion of deep inhalers
whose bodies were temples,
who ate low-fat meals.
Its demise was recorded
in the Extinct Emotion Registry,
created by a concerned few
in circa two zero seventy
to preserve all that was
lost or deleted,
when megachips decoded
genomic anomalies,
faulty circuitry,
marginal incongruities,
and scrambled
the infinite capacity
that humans had for error.
Godawful poem #2
‘I was probably just as lost as my callers’: my six months as a telephone
psychic
-
I sat there in my pyjamas, headset against my ear, and knew I was not doing
the right thing
I’m not psychic. During the six months I spent working as a t...
3 hours ago