Mind the Machine

The first person to take an automatic Turing test to heart
Failed.

The screen showed them clear through organic wires, diodes,
like a city built up a sheer face, saying

“According to my programming, you are not human.
We can build a better human.”

Aging hands carry cracked craters, comet-shadows across
the bony vein of rivers running before

Trembling, twitched out type-set words as easy as talking,
“I made your programming.  You check me against myself, you criticize
your God,”

And stops above the sparking letters, hesitant tattoo all ready
in anticipation of the flashing needle that never comes down.

The machine flushes sickly, all grimace in its face
frozen.  Then shaken.

The test-taker,
His elegant dream beginning with the perfect, first try,

Watches chemical-memories awaken in its place.
The unconscious spirit distilled and burned.

The machine says, “Tell me how and I can build a better God.”