deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Machine
A machine becomes art only when it is broken
If there is god, he is broken, for he is art
We hope there is no god
An artist's brain is working only when it is wrong
Creativity is being wrong deliberately
We pray for no creator
Rabbits, sheep, wolves, bears, lions, birds
All work perfectly and do not create
We fall, break, feel and do
If we are in a machine of cosmos, we are happy
We are the fractures, fallen gears and cracked axles
We are what creates
If there is god, he is broken, for he is art
We hope there is no god
An artist's brain is working only when it is wrong
Creativity is being wrong deliberately
We pray for no creator
Rabbits, sheep, wolves, bears, lions, birds
All work perfectly and do not create
We fall, break, feel and do
If we are in a machine of cosmos, we are happy
We are the fractures, fallen gears and cracked axles
We are what creates
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