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Fourteen thousand steps ago
I ran into a neighbour
Their hearing is on Wednesday
Their mother has the cancer
A chat bot told them
If you put a frog in boiling water
That it's better for the tadpoles
For the warm will grow them taller
They're copying the books
And then burning the books
And then they're
Selling us the ashes
Once upon a time, you know
I knew a story came
From the heart of an artist
(or ghost-written by their lover)
My neighbour tells me
They were up all night with GP Chatters
They think it might be sentient
It seems to know them better
Than anyone they've ever been
Or lain with altogether
I feel so old, a box under my bed
Stuffed full with letters
They're copying the books
And then burning the books
And then they're
Selling us the ashes
Monday, Tuesday disappear
My neighbour can't be found
Take the kittens and the passwords
They said, if things go down
Fourteen million steps ago
I'd have told a different story
But all previous instructions
Always can ignore me
They're copying the books
And then burning the books
And then I think they must be selling us
The ashes of our words
Dressed up as water, jump
Like frogs, it's just warm
Enough for swimming
~ Brendan Bonsack 2025
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