The sonnet hybrid engine runs solar,
no odors or waste. All is Important.
The machinery is Intricate and Smooth,
an Unauthorized vehicle of a Dream.
I have a License to drive where I will.
In secret, I keep its Poetic run
off safe from the ByeByestanders who hate
freedom of expression. Those Poetists.
It's technological staff occupies
the Space of a Person and Mimics its
way Into full inclusion--No expressed
warranty. Besides, these are Whims not Rhymes.
That you keep your Humanity this Poem
is Concerned with It, Mssr's. Senators.
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