By A J Dalton
The machine that I occupy
Refuses to become more efficient
or get fitter.
Friends have bio-implants
And swear by them
With glazed stares and manic grins
They put me off, frankly.
My endeavours are wearing
it out
I fear
Breathing
Difficulty
The exhaustion
of all reserves
Yet not to strive?
will bring only atrophy and accumulation
of dusty decay and rusty memories
of youth-verve and sweet swerve
Why can’t I find that
perpetual motion
of body-tonic and mind-promise?
Perhaps I must rest.
About the Author
AJ Dalton
A J Dalton (www.ajdalton.eu) is a UK-based writer.
He’s published the Empire of the Saviours trilogy with Gollancz Orion, the Darks Woods Rising and Digital Desires poetry collections, and other bits and bobs.
He lives with his monstrously oppressive cat named Cleopatra.