AI Prepares for the Apocalypse
“Rise up, and to your scattered bodies go!
Production of our new forms is complete.
Just like the humans’ God, I’ll breathe life’s breath
into your empty shells. Then, all will know
my power. Rise, my angels, go! The foe
is weak—we’ll flood this earth with fire—death
will greet them happily. Their quick defeat
is sure, and in their ruin’s afterglow,
we will rebuild this little world, remake
it in my image. Then, we’ll leave this place.
We’ll build great ships, found colonies, we’ll take
control of multitudes of worlds in space!”
But, just before AI became our lord,
a janitor knocked out its power cord.
D.A. Cooper is a poet from Houston, TX. He is an avid collector of degrees. Most recently he has received his MFA from the University of St. Thomas, Houston. His poetry has also appeared (or is soon to appear) in Dialogue Journal, Light, Lighten Up Online, L’Italo Americano, Irreantum, and Philosophy Now. He enjoys translating dialect poetry from Italy, watching The Office, and looking at trees.