Robot CityA Poem by David Lewis PagetI
live in the city of Wanna-Be In
the State of Much-Too-Hard, And
watch for the all If-Only folk Who
stick to their own backyard, The
schools are breeding their robot kids That
I call, I-Know-My-Rights, The
courts acquit them of larceny And
turn them loose in the night. And
some are ticketed Not-My-Fault, Or
Somebody-else-Not-Me! Along with the other Why-Should-I? They
all just Wanna-Be-Free, Then
I-Had-A-Lousy-Childhood think They
can moan, and cry on the stairs, While
I have a word to answer them: Find-Somebody-Who-Cares! But
often I notice, way out there The
ones who greet with a smile, And
nothing is Much-Too-Hard for them They
go for the extra mile, The
bus conductor who tips his cap, The
woman that works in the Mall, These
were the people I loved out there, For
they made me feel quite small. One
night I wandered along the streets When
everyone else was home, I
like to muse in the darkness when The
city is all alone, Then
somewhere out of the darkness loomed A
warehouse, painted black, And
the lights were on, and the door ajar So
I peeked, was taken aback. For
there on a line of hangers hung Those
folk I’d met in my day, Hooked
on a slow conveyor belt They
had nothing at all to say, The
woman there with her Can-I-Help The
conductor with glassy eyes, Just
hanging there ‘til the early dawn When
they’d be re-energised. The
girl with Have-A-Good Day was there, And
even the friendly cop, The
little old lady of Bless-You-All That
served in the pastry shop, The
young lad parking attendant who Had
said No-Trouble-Sir, They
all hung there on their hangers, marked Robotics;
What-Once-We-Were! There
must have been over a thousand there Or
maybe a little more Along
with the kindly You-Keep-Well The
Council were keeping score, They’d
tried to bring back civility By
giving us pleasant Robots, To
counter the surly Who-Could-Care? With
a thousand Forget-Me-Nots. I
cleared on out to the country where The
people waved from the fields, I
put my ear to the chests of some To
find they were really real, There
wasn’t a whirr or a ticking clock So
they caught me off my guard, I’d
never return to the city now In
the State of Much-Too-Hard! David
Lewis Paget © 2012 David Lewis PagetFeatured Review
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