“I AM A ROBOT.” a poem, a.k.a.: “Robots Can Get In Touch With Their Feelings Too.” Wednesday, October 2, 2019 (THE PICTURE: “Mr(s). Roboto.” Can you see IT?)
I MET A ROBOT THE OTHER DAY.
(S)He said: “ShutUp; Don’tBotherMe; GetOutO’TheWay.”
(S)he was in a hurry, and I think (s)he was made by a Russian,
‘Cause (s)he was rushin’ around,
And wasn’t into kindness or any form of “mushin’.”
(Back then) (S)He was antiseptic, dry and cold,
But, as has been mentioned, THE ROBOT WAS VERY BOLD;
(S)He said: “Watch yourself; I GOT EYES ON YOU;
I can see and know everything you’re doing; I got me ROBOTIC VIEW;
It MAY BE ‘myopic,’ but it’s true,
And ITwill stop you, before you can make anyone BLUE.
Before you EXPOSE ANYONE to anythingIknowShouldn’tBeExposed,
I will know those things, from the circuits in my head down to my
METAL JOINTED TOES.
I AM ROBOT. I AM your (CENSOR) “cen s[eu]or,’
And, unlike YOU, I refuse to feel, but I’ll never have mental illness or any form of C(ke)AN CER; you might DIE SOON, but I WILL LIVE FOR EVER,
And I’m PERFECT. SOLID. and VERY CLEVER.”
(Time passed.) Later, maybe even that day, I met my friend The Robot;
(S)He was sitting on a park bench, saying [over and over]:
“I AM I AM so NOT,
HAPPY, ’cause I was fired from my ‘CENSORing JOB,’
By a bunch of NeoNazis, who said I was A BLOB,
And that they wanted to control The World and I was IN THE(ir) WAY;
(You know) They’re more robots than me.” That’s what my robot friend did say.
SO, I GAVE HER A “LUBE JOB,” and She felt much better then.
“Ya wanna get married?” SHE said, and I just asked her “When?”
I do some art called: COMPOST ART, where I take breakfast scraps, make them into something nice, give it a name, take a picture and then compost the decomposing food in the back yard. Isn’t that nice? See, e.g.: https://culturalcompostische.wordpress.com