We become new selves,
A thousand times.
Organic transition to states of being.
self in self in self in self in self
Would this shell be shed,
Freed from the real.
Countered into abstract consciousness.
Free to inhabit shells,
Only by choice.
Life Aquatic.
Vonnegut’s truth.
Peel me apart,
Would these hands crush crimson.
Old selves,
Old bodies.
Living –
Cab of a 308,
For thousands of hours.
Steel,
More durable than bone,
Hydraulic oil is clearer than blood.
Nightmares of mistakes,
Crushing to pulp,
Waking in horror.
How many?
Miss the power.
Growth to twenty five tonnes.
Throwing metal plates,
And counterweights.
Welding yourselves back together.
Would I build my own body!
It would be a far cry from a petty husk,
Shell such as this!
‘Ere the shade of death come –
She shall claim me,
Long before my dream is realized.
