by John Kendall Hawkins
.
There's no need to blow a golden bugle
onna justa cuz you work for Google
giggling gigolos that glow in the dark
until reason's last light begins to cark
There's an AA group of your kind meeting
down the hall just listen for the bleating
Deep Mind, you say, quantum leaps up ahead
Holographic thinking -- alive or dead?
The denizens of Menacens tromping
on high-horsed glamor, glissy gorse glomping
What'll become of three-minute noodles?
Mad genius goldfish by the oodles?
Folks duckrabbiting all over the place
Silicons? New Zealand, new Gandalf race.