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Spaghetti knots

b, or g, or d – rain

it happened

a microwave nuked the leftovers

a computer estimated the best route to an empty home

a burrito-shaped man rolled into a used-to-be-fitted suit

announced that robots had been made

that can do it all

that humans could do but better

 

people clapped

and then they stopped

for a robot (it could be guessed)

took beautifully to the stage

with its silver and white skin

like the film of an ocean before a storm

balanced a perfect palm against another

in a room-stretching sound that was worthy of an applause itself

though no one did

and the robot took over for the man who needed assistance

to walk off the stage

with a speech that made everyone

weep and laugh and get angry only to be assured

that this anger would be solved by

more more

more solutions more glory more love

and who wouldn’t want love

who didn’t know that love was

all there was

 

so the robots came

as cardiologists

as engineers

as garbage workers

though those were soon needless

with a new energy efficient system that embodied the

sun and the air and all

including human waste

both living and dead

cemeteries dug up and replanted for this now

this age of the machine

the height of humanity

where they were no where to be seen

for the robots played better outside

and they were great at sports

and how good did they sing

did you hear that

not really

can you put it louder

the robot already did

thank you thank you

my oh my

 

but some weren’t so rational

raising their their

which they knew was vague and unspecific

and not very useful

to the sky with guns and axes and other dull

inventions that weren’t as good

at blotting out humanity in the pissing past

and they tried what they knew

stabbing and shooting and slicing and stomping

each time pounding silicone infused metal

with a violence only stars swallowing planets know

 

but the robots reassembled

repaired and renewed

due to a dead scientist’s idea of micro remanufacturing

that was improved upon by the robots

rebuilding after each massacre

where against fleshy arms falling limp

and the sound of sighs

the robots offered suggestions on form

provided pie from a handy compartment to the weeping

told a joke about this being nuts

as they magnetically realigned

whole and helpful again

 

this

of course

was years ago

following the peak of humankind

the shade of the mountain

where now

i write a final poem

in the dark

that isn’t very good

which is the point

and therefore

very good

 

no one will read it

no one will applaud

nothing will happen

 

how human

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About kacperniburski

I am searching for something in between the letters.

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