Who else would sit here
nodding, pretending to care
about whatever comes into my head?
I’d like a straw for my juice, please, dear.

There was a time
I could care less about robots
but not any more;
now they have entered every aspect of life:
they help us dress,
they clean up after us
they tidy our things
they guard our possessions
they fetch anything we need
they wheel us around
they chauffeur us when we go out
they do just about all manual labour
and they have the advantage that
they never need a day off
nor time to sleep.

They never talk back,
they are attentive
but never bored,
always there when you need them

I just wish they could be made
with human facial expressions:
that blank stare of yours is a bit unnerving.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
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