Poetry Project: Week 2 (Poem 3: Robots)

Posted on by Highest Form of Whit

Nick’s word: Robots

 

Automated matron mechanically mothers–

click-clack-creaking the breastfed laptop to sleep.

The motherboard is heating up,

laser pointers pointed pointedly:

You are at [Fault: Error Message {367942, process stopped indefinitely}]

The dial-up is down.

Androids lost count of electric sheep, still awake, always awake.

Weaponized.

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Published by Highest Form of Whit

Sarcasm is the Highest Form of Wit and Whit. Join us as we laugh about our insecurities, worries, irrational fears, depressions, and grief.