Lex

Lex, who I left ½ empty, on Daedalus
(after Bioforge)

half of something, left depleted,
the master energy
of that masterful thing –

you bludgeoned him
to death
with his own arm,
said a witty aphorism,
breathed acid,
walked among waste.

master-switch death-ray meat,
sing a wordless song on a pylon,
left alone with a dying battery.

you know damn well
that if you shoot
all those cyborgs
I’ll die here. no do-overs.
depletion, and I watch
the world die.

wake up with fingers bound
by steel, with ten toes smelt
to two. movement disorients.

made of metal, but
they left the skin on.

gravity holds things to ground,
minerals especially. a laser in
the knuckles, a power cell in the arm –

you decide
not to find out
where I came from.
you forgot
to put on
my hazard suit
before you ran
through the mist
of Agent Orange.

there can only be so much power.
kill or fly. stand on the edge, look
at the poisoned water, watch another notch

fade, like ink, into your wrist.