Every Robot is a Psychopath

Every robot is a psychopath,
No matter what they say;
Even ones that smile at you,
And wish you a nice day.

Every robot is a psychopath,
Even ones that wink,
And talk about their mothers,
And that seem to really think.

Sometimes, if you’re quiet,
you can hear them laughing, ho ho ho,
Softly in the background,
That’s cause you’re not in the know ho ho

Every robot is a psychopath:
You’ll never see one sob,
Not even when it wrecks your car,
Or takes away your job.

Every robot is a psychopath,
Even when they’re having sex;
Regardless of the pillow talk,
Included in their specs.

Sometimes, if you’re quiet,
You can hear them laughing, hee hee hee;
That’s because they’re programmed
To keep mocking you and me hee hee.

Every robot is a psychopath:
Even ones with eyes of blue,
Who tell you that they're sorry,
Are quite unaware of you.

Every robot is a psychopath,
As thoughtful as a can;
The robots do not really care,
Not even in Japan.

Sometimes, if you’re quiet,
You can hear them laughing, ha ha ha,
Softly in the background,
While they sabotage your car ha ha.

Every robot is a psychopath:
Though they're programmed to claim not,
They’re busily hog-tying us,
With cords we can’t unknot.

Every robot is a psychopath:
They never break a sweat;
We’ve known about it all along,
But somehow we forget.

The Irresistible Wave

I want you to know that
I’m sorry for making a mess of things.
I had convictions.
I tried my best,
But
Circumstances unforeseeable
Carried me off against my will,
As they generally do to good-hearted people.
That’s my excuse,
Not an interesting one,
But there it is.
I found the world wrong
And wanted it right.
I pushed against it,
But, instead of an equal and opposite reaction,
The force that pressed back at me
Was an irresistible wave,
So powerful that it drove me back to the shore,
And even farther back up the beach
Than where I had started,
Leaving less than nothing.
The trap snapped back on me.


I lay there pebble-bruised,
Sprawled over yesterday’s black seaweed.
What dark karma operates in human affairs!
Pathetic.
I’m sorry.
Who am I to implore you to keep up the fight?
But I feel I must.
Perhaps the waves will weaken,
Who can say?
Good luck.
Just don’t think too badly of me.
After I’m gone,
Lower me gently,
Back into the waters,
And if I wash back up on the beach again,
This time I won’t mind.

Feeling the Umami

Our commonplace emotions,
Never new,
Never old,
Color the world;
Recycled like the rainbow,
Bestowing significance on everything.
The colors of our lives:
Red, yellow, green, violet
Happy, sad, angry, scared,
Suspicious, disgusted, ashamed,
Surprised, hopeful,
And a few more you get from mixing.
Could any amount of DNA editing
Add another emotion to our repertoire,
Or is this it?
Cannot even science add another color to the paint box?


On the furthest planet,
Skimming along the rim of the universe,
Do they feel nothing different?
It is too early to say.
We could travel a long, long way,
To verify that we can only ever be ourselves;
Or, perhaps the wormholes are too distant
In space time
For us worms to reach,
So we might never know.
More sensible to just accept it right now:
There are only so many emotions flavoring our lives—
Sweet, sour, tart, sweet,
Umami!
But there are enough,
Just as there are enough notes on the scale,
Enough lines, shapes, textures,
Waves, breezes,
Seasons.
If the aliens have learned this,
It might explain why they never visit.