Poesía de Ciencia Ficción

book 2
Mauricio Otero
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Grabado de Roberto Matta
In the remote times of postmodernity

A Slave Economy was implanted in the whole world

"I am I and the others",

nobody remembered it;

then the ideals died with us

because, so lonely, they stopped believing

we believed in them no more.

We were written and from thenceforth pre-written before birth.

("We hid so many times

but they found us all the same.")

Bathe your souls in fear

in the sunset of the Cursed One

Those who were blind

will see!..

Pintura de Omar Gatica.Imagination will not be able to contain us

nor ourselves our very selves

through millennia of millennia.

The soul-ship sailed without time or space

with eyes of wide-open purity

searching for God.

"Look! Two solitary skulls

accompany the space flight of the heavenly horses"

"There goes the Great Rock, Soul of God

petrified in the history of aerolites."

We lost the shock of shocking the divine,

but Mephisto still laughs.

We were crucified, dead and buried,

and, on the third day, we opened our eyes without knowing who we are.

"Now, have we opened our eyes to death?"

Certainly there are no more tears

because postmodern man is the God (HE is just a superman).

Animal man, watch out for man.

Grabado de Roberto Matta("The machines will rebel one day

just like the past of the human being.

"Human?" "What is that?"

Come, oxygen of oxygen

There were lies saved that saved us from life;

Death will save us from life:

Daybreak will be hurled from our hands, there


Further below,

We will hear the virginal songs of man and his history;

After all nothing will be in vain, nothing rather than the NOTHING

The ALL will look at man naked before the cosmos

In the pure silent night of death.



In the ancient era of postmodernity

our private life became public,the public, private.

(Therefore, "we were neither modern nor postmodern,

but rather primitives:


We all had a guard,

here were watchmen in the streets

in the ancient commercial districts there were TV cameras watching us;

soon we were ordered to watch our own streets:

"Watchful eye, watchful ear, hands that watch, feet that catch you."

Till we all learnt to watch ourselves;

till everyone learnt to guard themselves,

to hide the face, till everyone went inside


and spontaneity was erased

and every movement was predestined,

and from then on we were merely the reflection of the publicity

that asked so much of us

each buying action was computationally virtualised and we were fixated, responding to the cerebral button.

The future was close, each time closer;

Pintura de Omar Gatica.new worlds for the new people;

there never was an old world:

catatonia was here;

finally, we only had to stop working;

and the world would keep advancing


we only had to eat and eat and look/ at the screen/.

Emotion what was that?

Reflection, it isn't registered, (strike out!)


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