by Eric Roth
They wear gene splices like new haircuts,
whiskers protruding from the corners of their lips
and retractable claws hidden in each of their fingertips.
They stare out at rain-shined streets through piss-yellow eyes
with oblong pupils, and each of them thinks: I don’t give a hoot about my parents’
values—the stale morals of yesteryear. I’m not even entirely human
anymore. I’ve evolved past that. This will be the generation
that makes it. Years from now, they’ll look back on us
and say, "They did it right".
© 2014 Eric Roth
Eric Roth is a lifelong fan of science fiction, fantasy, and all things spectacular and strange. By day, he is a network technician.
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