Fred Aiken Writing

Tag: futuristic

December 5, 2022

Futuristic Familial Armistice

My sister’s eyes are laser-trained on my left arm with a rusted axe hovering above her head. I’m laying on my tropical felt futon in a premium Demerol-Red-Label haze feeling like a philosophical centipede swimming in green Jell-O. 

“I’m having doubts,” she says. 

“And I’m not. Do it!” 

My eyes roll into the back of my head, and I don’t notice her sweating apprehension. She trembles and her vision goes blurry. I show her prints about the cybernetic arm to allay her. By cutting off a part of me, I tell her, I’ll be able to do so much more. 


					

	

	

		

				

	



		
			


			

				October 19, 2021

		

		
Amigo Robotico
		
		

			

if a robot tells you what you want to hear, does that make it my friend





that nurtures and inaugurates me into the future,





propelled by centrifugal forces that continually find themselves





in abandoned parking lots of shopping malls





making waves of used mechanical parts that I call friend,





anointed with the odd, yet special, yet useless, yet yeast-infested puss filled sack of meat that I am,





but that’s something my good robot friend won’t tell me,





because he has my back, I think