to sit amongst the tans,
the creamy, sandy blurs
that don’t muffle, but seem
to punctuate the sounds of
gossip, soap-operatic gifs,
and cackles that reopen all my
wounds, to sit there,
punching the numeric
keys and alpha, as needed,
to be a steel case, undisturbed
by the chaos of death wearing
down the cubicled, doing my
job, so that I might wander
in a normally-hopeless search
for my life, for my reason.
.
stillfugue 
#1 by Carl D'Agostino on October 12, 2013 - 6:43 pm
Read all 3 robots, still thinking on them
#2 by Carl on October 17, 2013 - 11:20 pm
Thank you, Carl. I am very interested in your most honest criticism on the series. Sometimes, I think I nailed it, but I’m warped in my own brain, and it’s crap.
#3 by Michele Seminara on October 12, 2013 - 9:01 pm
I enjoyed these robot poems Carl. They offer an interesting perspective. I think I want a robot now!
#4 by Carl on October 17, 2013 - 11:21 pm
Thank you, Michele! I appreciate your comment. I’d love to loan you my robot, but I require it’s services full time!
#5 by Erik Andrulis on October 14, 2013 - 8:56 am
Ah, to be the robot, wanting the companionship of Carl….
#6 by Carl on October 17, 2013 - 11:23 pm
Now you’ve done it! My mind is really churning on some material from that perspective. Thanks for your comment.
#7 by clinock on October 16, 2013 - 2:23 am
Very strong series Carl – looking forward to more…
#8 by Carl on October 17, 2013 - 11:25 pm
Thank you, John. I appreciate your comment. I never know if I’m on to something or not, but I’m having fun.