Digital Demi-Gods Poem by Cory Huennekens

What are we? Where are our masters? Wrapped in cords of copper and gold and light? A deist and theist and A theist all walked into a bar, sat down and talked about nothing. The lonely teenage pot head prostrated on his knees in front of neon gods who inhabit vacuums and occupy their Elysium which orbits the Earth in a perpetual mathematical free fall. And there she is the single mom, sad, lonely, with her little bundle of joy on her way to the birthing table again because she is a single mom, sad, lonely, with her little bundle of joy. Who are we? Maybe if we work out enough and big build muscles we can encapsulate our insecurities behind the fortress of flesh. Your digital demi gods are calling you, they no longer whisper in the trees, they play their flutes and dance in your living rooms. Pay homage to their cause, pay homage to their beauty.