Leonardo Boiko’s Diary

ja tvoj Sluga
ja tvoj Rabotnik

  their young brains all fired up, bristling with electricity,
  they route hither and thither eyeing everything,
  hungry for problems & toys & problems & problems,
  gleefully cutting themselves off all depth & pain,
  lobotomizing themselves into boy machinima,
  these boys!
  picking their heartless cold fights over nothing really,
  solving debating grinning mechanically,
  lost forever in fractally endless castles in-the-sky,
  climbing to the skies,
  clinging to the skies,
  swarm-minds joining and struggling and forever arranging themselves like small square automata in a nightmarish Rubik’s Cube,
  their cold gods walking around empty-faced,
  their priests smiling, dressed in gold,
  the dogs eagerly learning new tricks,
  the cats smirking disdainfully at their masters but still eating catfood,
  secretly scared of the day when they’ll be thrown out in the woods.