A doll of its own [bio-generated poetry]

You're often crying

I can put you together any way I want

You pray with your knuckles white
to get the fuck away

But the needle won't come out
and the cycle continues


Until the cold void your soul becomes

Through relentless suffering

Seeks a doll of its own to dismember

Life Begins at Cremation (Biogenerated poetry)

 Hey 

Why are your nipples in your nostrils?

Why is your glide so short of mine?

I will eat your apples

So that the sun 

may never touch

your love

We all want knowledge

We yearn to know more

We cycle downward

At the limits

And use our imagination

to plow through walls

of satiation

that hold us down

Restless feeding simulates need

What kind of a god 

would place his creatures in a garden

To feed on one another?

We worship hunting

If nothing remains of us

It was always meant to fade

This is our tree now

Life begins at cremation

Let us not be meat

In the maw

Of our creator

Camouflage (Computer Generated poetry)

This desiring microphone

calculates across the booties

Into the barren

Where throwers camouflage

Into stereotypes

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This poem was generated using IM5.9.