----- A Jinjagoliath poem: 1st April 2023 -----
My vacuum is a robot My tumble dryer, true They're programmed to assist My world And keep it ordered too I feed my dishy-washer My clothes go in a box It's where the magic happens Yet It always eats my socks My telly can now do things I cannot understand With mini robot partner here Clamped tightly In my hand The toast it pops. The microwave, It sings me out it's tune. My loft has hidden strangers Feeding me electricity At noon I guess I won't be lonely As these friends around me toil They clean & cook & entertain, Refrigerate And boil And yet, my world feels empty Despite this crowded space No robot yet can substitute For love Or person place We're built to be organic So it kinda makes some sense I like the metal critters But My spirit's more intense I leave the shrouded palace For a walk among the trees I feel my truest presence here, My face Against the breeze I stroll beside the water So that deep from my insides The birdsong levitates My soul Where humanity resides And just as sunshine radiates To warm my fleshy skin The love that makes My heartbeat Restores me from within Artwork Credit: @mattdixonart "Longing" (paid)
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