I Robot
Poetry
Over hard surfaces
I traverse in endless,
unexpected ways,
never quite capable
of cleaning up
the mess I’ve made.
The journey began
in golden spiral, uncoiling
as perfect as the geometry
of a nautilus shell
or the arms of our galaxy.
But recurring diversions
split cartesian forces
into oblong parallelograms,
interrupting programmed paradigms,
ushering me into headwinds
unchartered, into the unknown.
Up the crow’s nest with spy glass
to herald approaching hazard,
I seek cautionary semaphores.
Infrared sensors bounce invisible lasers
like beacons into the void.
Each answered signal, a small victory
but each intrusion, a quick recalibration.
A vigilant response to avoid repeated collisions
with base boards, wooden legs,
yesterday’s detritus, a lost golden band.
Not given latitude to maneuver
too quickly or too far,
my movement is prescribed
by an undisclosed formula.
A formulated path
ultimately leading me somewhere —
or perhaps nowhere —
a deceptive design
with no clear destination,
discernable only from
the height of angels.
Like Nazca lines spread out for miles
across the arid plateaus of Peru
My spirit rises above them into the skies
where I hope it becomes
unmistakably clear,
I desire my path to be in the shape of you.
