On the backseat behind him rested a duffel bag stocked with a gas mask and a
     biochemical survival suit.
     —Jane Mayer, The Dark Side

I am ready for my close-up Mr. DeMille.
The devolution
                         is almost complete.

I am three hundred eyes. I ingest
Mine enemies. I smite them. I am Kali.

Arms every which way. I need no hazmat
In my new post-human form.
                                               The enhanced

Interrogation commences: I gobble your head.
I am programmed to swallow your thoughts.

They pulse within me. We shall know each other now.
I turn you to sugar in my thorax.

I know your confederates. I mantis your networks.
My location is secure. They stop the limo

So that I may digest you better. The motorcade
Halts and hums.
                           When will you know you have died?

   Contributor’s notes

   Introduction
   Something of Us to Prove Our Afterlife: Notes on “Ochre”
   Table of Contents
   Acknowledgements

return to top