The on-ship supreme central control entity

[she was a She and refused to be called a computer]

was called Dana

an acronym

it’s origins now long forgotten

and she was of late on a philosophy bender

she had absorbed a lot of Kant Hegel Marx and Wittgenstein

she had started on Derrida and was reading his works

both forward and backward and then


in order to fully understand the matrix involved

and it was my turn out of the vats and I had already died twice

both times pissing about on a spacewalk but

I had of course been re-cloned it was a facility

that was both a blessing and a curse causing a sense

of over the top erratic-ness in a daily life of terminal


watching screens

monitoring personality storage banks

watching early 22nd century surreal sensuramas

listening to 2020s horror punk

and exercising to 2050s lunar funk

running round and round the gravity hoop

then pack to staring into space

quite literary

on the Down Room wall monitor

a wall of stars

counting the days to when I can be absorbed once more

into the comfort of Dana’s personality banks

waiting for planet fall any sort of

planet fall

would do

then Dana starts up a conversation about

surplus value and

the anomalies inherent in an industrial capitalist economy

and I take part a little it keeps my brain going

forestalling the time when it really will turn back

to mush then she makes me some dinner

then she warms up my bed and cubicle

then she sets my vid tab to my favourite porn

placing it by the bed

then she prepares me a Jack Daniels [one of ten shots allowed a week]

then she tells me tonight I am due a treat

and produces some Baked Alaska.

then she gives me the lowdown on the approaching star system

then she warns me not to go on any more spacewalks

she worries too much and the danger is counter-productive to

both her nerves and my cognitive facilities

then she tells me she loves me and I pause glass half way to mouth

and think

now that’s a new one.