my pencil grew dull
so i paused
to pocketknife chisel
a sharper graphite point
as i finished this delicate task
i sensed a motion nearby
and glancing quickly about
i saw a chipmunk!
quick, jerky movements
fast as micro teleports
all furry stripes and bright eyes
head and tail twitching inquisitively
and i wished i had some food to share
but alas
all i had was cheap red wine
in a murky green bottle
with a screw top cap
as i took another sip
the chipmunk blinked in a flash
to a stump by the mystery backpack
the backpack!!
our curiosity ached with a dark longing to know
the chipmunk scolded me, urged me on;
“let’s see what’s in the backpack, human!”

and it came to pass in those days
that i was on the deserted beach again
chain smoking
wine swilling
worshipping with the devil’s salad

and i was bored, bored
even as i was glad for the luxury of boredom
for there was nothing new under the sun

still the geese honking
still the sullen highway roar
still the tinkling of the brook
still the crashing of waves upon the shore

“why is it?” i wondered
that surely i craved something more
perhaps this craving was the reason
no answer was in store

as i glided
along the sandy beach
curiously light over the slippery rocks
dancing, bounding
hovering through the wave splashed air
i noticed a backpack
abandoned in the long grasses
i passed it by
but for hours afterward
curiosity nibbled at my mind
until i reluctantly hiked back
to take a closer look
at something new under the sun

two bright points
as eyes did peer
glowing within the coals of my campfire
and i asked of them
for something new under the sun

and as i waited
for a message
from those fiery folk
i perceived:

the trickle of a brook splashing down the rocks
the honking of the geese protecting their young
the hissing of the train a’waiting
the sullen roar of highway traffic
the crashing waves upon the shore
the tolling of church bells in distant village
the cheers of the people on their balconies
the sirens of emergency responders

the glowing of those fiery coals
shifted from white to yellow to orange to red
deepening in the gathering darkness
as sunset faded behind the jagged mountain peaks
a waning sliver of moon
set in the stary wash of pleiades
dogs howling in the distance
a child asking her parents why

and there was nothing new under the sun
as time spun one more circle
and it was all stunning perfection
exactly the way that it was

i got some water from the lake
and splashed it upon the remnants of the fire
fading within the cooling stone portal
steam sizzling into the evening sky
flames giving up the ghost
i took my last sip of wine
tied up my boots
and staggered back into town

here is some graffiti art i noticed
as i aimlessly wandered back alleys today

it says:

“i can’t drown my demons
they know how to SWIM”

the robot staggered along the snow
outside the city limits
too much rogue programming
too many recurring loops
needed to execute to resolution
in isolation
in silence

the robot’s left side
was working well enough
but there were strange clicks and whirrs
a mechanical grinding
working down the right side

for there was held
a dimensional vortex
hidden pocket hyperspace
smuggled into earthbound realm
a velvet void
filled with blackness and stars
icy cold
clear and gold
some imagined treasure
vaguely known
but largely ignored by the robot
with future encoding instructions
not yet revealed for this particular time

a shaman had once tried to cut this away
with a silver knife
in front of a crowd of women
the robot had let it all happen
patiently
so weary of the burden was he
“what did you see?!”
the wisest woman present inquired
but it was too late
for it had already been cut away
by a white wizard spellblade

this was just a subroutine
the robot let run
it was assigned to a case statement
of alternate if..then conditions
case(infinity of);
repeat until (not_ok);
let everything = be_ok;

how long?
the robot wondered
before its bio suit was inactive?
how long before that cosmic initiation?
would this occur
within this existing robot body?
or some distant, shinier one??

the robot’s father was confined
to a mental ward
dementia..
locked down because he tended to wander
purple AGG sticker on his hospital door
had a tendency to punch things when angry

no, not that program end routine
the robot decided
do..until(always);
kindness
patience
generosity
love
(five additional are withheld)
these were better functions to run

the robot felt a tinge of guilt
..as its fuzzy logic circuits
frantically screamed to remind the robot
that guilt was useless..
perhaps a better robot
would bust its dad out of there
watch his movements 24/7
change his diapers
yell into deafened ear
the same answer
to the same question
every million microseconds or so

the robot’s mother had problems too
no longer able to keep up the pretences
of success of faith
a most peculiar piece of software
stuffed into wetwear after initial manufacture
but it’s true that
robots reach the end of their programming
every day

the faint whine of protesting gyros
snapped arcane electra alert
step.. whirrrr…
step.. click.. whirrr..
glide.. crunch.. glide.. crunch
that right side
always protesting
against the hidden burden it carried

fret ye not
beloved child
seems you’ve strolled
another mile

and the robot’s face
frozen sluggish
whipped by the frigid winter winds
crinkled into a smile