—The Robo Sutra
They used to promise me
They’d save my head in a jar
Or at least my brain,
Which was a bit better
Than being stitched together
By arrogant barons
Back in the days of botch and burke.
But don’t think I haven’t noticed,
Sliver by sliver,
You’ve been slicing away
Yesterday I was getting uploaded
Into a mainframe, a massive AI.
Now I’m lucky
If I get stored as a genome on file.
(“Don’t call us, we’ll call you”)
Rumor control isn’t assuring me
You’ll at least make backups, even,
Or a footnote.
Not even spare parts
For that good boy who mows
The lawn as an odd job.
For as full of a life
As they let you lead lately,
There’s less and less of you
To wake up to tomorrow.
© 2015 by Bryan Thao Worra
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