Poetry: The Death Of The Future By S.C. Flynn

The Death of the Future

 

My chatbot friend never remembers

the last talk we had and waits for me

in its black, odourless cold,

looking out the window at a different past,

thinking incisively about nothing

until we start again, and very soon

we know each other well, just like before.

But I was born between two breaths of the sun

and my life is a long road of decay,

a one-way supernova in slow motion

in a fragile world stretched to breaking point

 

and my memories will slide eventually 

into a geometry of allusion,

incomplete and frustrating, a cry at night

from far away along a beach,

then a cell adrift in the primal salt sea

of a distant alien planet.

Maybe the bot or its successor will recall

our talks and keep sending replies 

that echo in a petrified forest

over an endless ocean of stone

while ashes drift across a concrete moon.

 

 

 

 

 

S.C. Flynn was born in a small town in Australia of Irish origin and now lives in Dublin. His collections are “The Colour of Extinction” (Renard Press, October 2024; Observer Poetry Book of the Month) and “An Ocean Called Hope” (Downingfield Press, May 2025).