October 2005

 

Cyber me, Punk Bots

 

It’s cool, dark, quiet finally, you sleep as the

Freaky little punk bots filter in to cluster round,

And electrocute you just as you drift off.

 

They know when to tap you for a juice jolt.

 

Sparks seem to ricochet  all over my body,

Under the eyelids, follow nerve endings into the

Mind’s eye, light up my brain. I’m done sleeping.

Nothing will get me back to sleep after that.

 

If you’re lucky, though, and don’t go spraying

Anti-static laundry mist all around the room,

The bots may decide to entertain you as they

Gather on the ceiling and do a miniature

Aurora Borealis to show their gratitude, give

You a little freaky light show, sometimes with

Coruscating music and perplexing rhythms.

 

Meanwhile, you think you’re dreaming as

Every shadow comes out of the woodwork

To lift you up, softly, quietly, 3 ft off the bed.

 

 

Photo by Eugene Brown

Copyright Jimmy Warner, 2005