Poetry? About sexbots? How absurd! You might as well write poetry about dildos!
mighty redwood – how we would
mourn thy glorious fall
What sort of a man are you to sully this highest art with such perversion? I have no more interest in reading this offensive nonsense than I do in using the real thing. Only a sick, twisted mind would find anything of merit in such a horrifying… objectifying… ugh! There are no words.
sexbot
some mirrors reflect
too well
Technology forges ahead. Like it or not, right or wrong, there is money in sex. Dolls are made that can fool the eye, and that can star in videos that no human would survive the making of. Walking, talking, fucking dolls are on the horizon – ten years away, perhaps. In twenty years, they’ll be affordable. In thirty years…
Assuming the world has not experienced a global catastrophe (a big assumption), by 2050 we’ll have climbed out of today’s uncanny valley into a brave new world of sexual liberation. All those things you’ve always wanted a man/woman/other to do to you, or that you’ve wanted to do to them, but would never dare? Ever wanted to experience the joy of sex without the stress of a relationship?
Sexbots are coming.
sexbots are coming
a punchline
without a joke
She’s a pretty girl, and cheerful, and can’t get enough of me. She wraps herself around me at night for warmth. She doesn’t get my sense of humour, and Star Wars terrifies her, but, hey, no one’s perfect.
But she’s not a girl. She can’t consent and she can’t enjoy. She’s a ship without a canon. Balls optional.
Francis James Franklin (Alina Meridon) 