I don’t want
to be
a Chicken McNugget
or a processed
chuck-it-lunch-it,
underneath
a heat lamp
or in a microwave. 

I don’t want
Botox
or plastic surgery
or to be
cloned
for infinity.

In the depths
of humanity
is a certain
sort of tendency,
at least
these days,
to process
and preserve
everything
we are
for eternity. 

I can almost
see it
floating by,
a planet
stacked high
with robotic,
humanoid
life-forms
that should have
seen an end
long ago.

— Brian Bronson