Cheap Air conditioning cranked
For beings who don't feel heat
Trash pop blares
For beings who could only recently understand song
A bated exchange
A hesitant joke
A welcome change
The tension nearly broke
You're such a pitiful,
spineless thing,
aren't you?
Vertebre celebrate
Brush against one another
A naive
mock-person
looks out the window
There is nothing there
Blinding light
Desert sand
Cracking highway
Miles and miles and miles of
The questions
Where are they now?
Do they miss us?
Are we going to die?
A can hits the floor of a dusty commons room
Dusty and unused
It holds a board
The board once held more productive things
Now it holds
Spite
and a Wanted poster
A desperate revolutionary
Looks out the dirty front windows
Of a machine
A
naive
robot
Writes a naive, robot letter
To a naive robot builder
Talking about the sad world in which they live
And the allegiances that it
holds itself to
A naive robot
Cries
but only from within
A war cry
Of identity and purpose
A desperate revolutionary
Cries
but only from within
A war cry
Of anger and power
Two
People
Drive up to a nursery
In a ghost town
And
A ghost woman
Welcomes them