Tuesday, March 22, 2005

ROBOTS.
No soft flesh nor coursing blood here,
No trickling, spurting or surging fluids;
Gashed skin will yield no blood,
Hard spills impact looses no flood.

For these creatures are silicon and steel,
Full of wire and fiber and artifice;
Tough polymers, plastics acrylic encase,
Pulsing microelectronic intelligence throughout.

Prepare yourselves, oh current generations,
They are coming, just around the corner;
In trickles, then droves, with many mutations,
Gleaming hordes society's new brick and mortar.

New help to clean homes and offices,
Put away groceries, Stock the shelves;
New companions for the elderly,
Cheaper subs for convenience store duty.

How often will we see fellow human beings,
Surrounded by electro-surrogates fulfilling our needs?
You will know the end is presaged,
When I try to marry my faithful machine!

(c) cranky mike, 2005