poetry by j matthew waters

as sure as the sun rises

I scramble without success
to find triple A batteries to feed the
remote control sitting idly in the parlor

it’s painful to see inoperable mice
spotted here and there throughout the place
paralyzed from lack of sunlight

how am I supposed to wake up
without the assistance of automation
I may as well sleep until the midday whistle
blows loudly down at the railyard

even the engineers are not human
nor passengers riding coach
        not the priest reading scripture
from the ambo
or flower girl tossing red and white
petals while frolicking down the aisle
      not the taxicab driver
or truckers commandeering 28 wheels
    neither the mailman
nor scores of pretty milkmaids

I keep reading how one day the robot
uprising will soon be upon us
but to tell you the truth
I’m not so sure it’s already here

november two thousand seventeen
copyright j matthew waters
all rights reserved

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