The first word
The first thought
The first step
Then scoot without a hoot
Down the multi coloured tunnel chute
Like on a fairground autoroute
Once born brace yourself
I no longer identify myself as human
I prefer to identify myself as cyborg
Said the refugee on the BBC
Try as I might something I can not confute
I do not hurry the long voyage
Nevertheless the trip is brief and acute
and solitary to boot
Before the Tonton Macoute pounce
Making me flinch and irresolute
What is there to grasp
Full understanding eludes
Only conscience attends
That is the absolute