Dispossessed

I woke this morning, gone.
Blood and bone
and beating heart removed—
replaced with artificial parts—
wheels and gears and pistons,
metal and plastic,
working on orders
from computer chips,
their gold circuits
the only avenue
for unfleshed thought.

What kind of life is this?
Reshaped, redrawn,
and redefined,
how can I inhabit
this new home,
this foreign body
even I can’t recognize?