Automated Wind-Up Toy

By Haris Čolić

Goat
Goat
Oct 5, 2017 · 2 min read
Squ33x

In every single one of my dawns the pain twitches,
And in every single one of my dusks it dies out.
Invisible and wild, pain flows through me as an impulse
Through my nerves, like an electric current.
Wakes me up and distorts my muscles; every day.

I get out of my bed, electrified and full of glitches,
The mirror, out of pity, distorts my reflection,
So for a moment I can see a smile on the other side.
A smile completely unnatural and inappropriate,
As if it doesn’t belong there.

Every day goes by like I’m on an assembly track
In factory of life. They assemble me mechanically,
So I could feel that electric impulse in the morning.
When they get me off that industrial machinery,
They wind me up, so I can stagger through the day.

In every single of my dawns, pain wakes me up,
And in the moment when I twitch out of REM phase,
I feel alive, but the day takes yesterday’s course
And I get up electrified and full of glitches; dismantle
Myself, piece by piece; assemble back in factory.

Fabricated from the daily routine, my life flows
Like an empty tape of feature-length film. Dawns
And dusks are the only indication that I’m alive
And that I am able to feel something. But, it’s sad
That the only feeling capable of twitching me is pain.


I wrote this poem “Automated wind-up toy” to show how much of a problem daily routine can be. It’s a dangerous thing that lurks all around us and most of the time we slip just right into it without even noticing. It’s a disease that is very difficult to treat, but it is curable. I wrote this piece as a warning to everyone, including myself, never to give in to daily routine. -Haris-

Goat

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