by Louis B. Shalako
c2010
All Rights Reserved
I, robot
Don’t have the capacity
To dream about tomorrow
But I never spell a word wrong
Fueled up, brains all loaded
With everything that’s passed
And I have no place to go
I can never die
As long as the batteries last
Here I come
Here I come
Here I come
I have never speculated
As to where I came from
Did I spring from the dust?
Was I created?
I’ve never cared. I’ve never asked.
Simply because it’s easier
In the Good Lord I trust
Here I come
Here I come
Here I come
Cryogenic heart, skin a polished silver
One thing I am glad of
For this I thank my builder
I can never rust.
And in my own self-assumptions;
I place my deepest trust
I, robot; am happy within myself.
Here I come
Here I come
Here I come…
Editor's Note: This poem first appeared in 'Twisted Tongue,' (UK) as 'Mr. Robot,' in July 2010. A quick gender-changing re-write, and you got a whole new poem! But at least now the picture makes a little more sense.