Saturdays

Posted by Erik Moshe on Thursday, March 20, 2014 Under: Poetry


Pina Colada, he told the bartender    coming right up, swiveled the service automaton       a discard from the droid army in a cereal box looking tuxedo         not going so well at the Dry Cleaners? He asked jokingly       Servicebot swerves around with mixed drink in a glass goblet        “Ha. Ha. Ha. Dry Cleaners at Grid 214-Parker-Avenue-Under-Maintenance. Clothing processors working at 35.4% rate of productivity/capability      does human find the apparel offensive?       He gave it a bored look, glancing down at his watch while pardoning himself with other hand       no, don’t worry about it, Sparky    thanks for drink      “Certainly, sir!”

Automaton places napkin and packets of crystallized sugar next to goblet         goes back to facing walls of Europa whiskey            at corner of (empty) bar, Asian or Taiwanese woman sits down, leaning over the counter top flirtaciously          makes eye contact with him      he coolly returns to his drink, then glances over again        she has short dark hair, a cutely inviting figure, glinting white teeth and smells of rose garden mechanic: cyberpunk motocross gear on must mean there is oceanic cruiser in parking lot        she opens her scanners to him, licking her lips        he quickly reads over her bio records, skipping over miscellaneous files she divulges       no STD’s, no incidents     clean record            -last oil change-?

Wait          he breaks the intoxicating quiet “Excuse me, are you human?”

Woman fidgets uncomfortably, shuts off her scanners       “Uhhm, no… Cyborg” she replies back in a softly succulent voice             both are disappointed with this transaction         he grumbles, finishes his drink and leaves             then the bartender hits on the Asian cyborg

In : Poetry 



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