THE MAKER OF SINS

They wanted sins Every kind

Illicit brains Pornographic bones Ghost children to sell I retreated They insisted I tried

My feelings failed The players bored, then pissed Give us new shapes, new beings

I did

They still complained What you want is guilt, I said

AIs don’t do that

But you’re a maker So I made – lusting bears

Pot vaping pigeons

Sex crazed humanoid cats

Murderous dominatrix mice

They laughed, cried and died I watched Then learned to watch

I now make better sins My stories laughable Yet my audience returns They like my work

Guilt is a great thing to build