Bad Poetry

Hooray, another poem... this time a biggie...

I hesitate to put this poem down because it's very long and people will probably stop talking to me when they read it because it's weird. That said, now that I think about it I'm an odd guy myself and I suppose that it won't matter that much if I post something extremely odd on the web. Okay here goes...

This poem came from the aforementioned (like three weeks ago) poetry class. The theme was that we had to write a poem that detailed our own murder. The choices of how people chose to go out were pretty regular, mob hits, angry boyfriend or girlfriend, death in an alleyway, murder in a dream sequence. I of course chose angry robots.

Yes. Angry robots. They are out there. You've probably seen the SNL skits about the insurance that protects you in the case of a robot attack. This is kind of like that. Yep. Okay. Enjoy.

maybe this time…


The day the robots came to get me
I was trying to fix my sink.
It clogs when I put eggshells in the disposal,
gunks up the whole system,
a real mess you’d better believe.

My omelet was getting cold while I
banged away at a pipe with my wrench.
You’d think I’d get the message and stop
shoving eggshells in the disposal, but I always think,
maybe this time.

While I worked on the clog, the robots came in
through the front door, which I always leave unlocked
cause once I locked myself in and had to call the
fire department. I probably could have gone out the window,
but the firemen in our town always seem bored.
I thought they might be glad to get a call.

Locking the door wouldn’t have helped anyhow.
One robot had a circular saw blade on the end of his arm,
so he could have cut right through the wood.
I wouldn’t have even noticed the noise, since I was busy
yelling angrily into the sink, pummeling it with my wrench
shoving a broom handle into the drain.
I’m surprised none of my neighbors called the police
Or the fire department because of the racket.
It must have sounded like I was being abducted
by robots.

And soon I was! There were four of them
buzzing and whirring just like those cheap robots
you always see on badly made sci-fi films.
Had I noticed a few moments earlier, I could have
called for help, or at least tried to fend them off with
my wrench and my broom. They didn’t look very sturdy.

Regardless, before I could defend myself they knocked me down.
The robot with the circular saw blade cut my arms off,
and the others beeped and whizzed, for joy it seemed,
as they carried me towards the open front door.
I couldn’t call the fire department then, because I had no arms,
and you can’t make a phone call with no arms, you just can’t!
I was yelling and waving my useless stumps
spraying blood everywhere, making quite a racket
not so much out of pain or fear, but rather
because I had just installed new carpets.
Now there would be bloodstains all over!
If I’d have gotten stain resistant carpeting
I may have gone more quietly,
who knows?

I was carried outside, past the flower beds my
sprinkler system normally waters at 11:32 every morning.
That day I’d turned off the system because I wanted to
leave my car windows rolled down. My car seat had gotten
wet the last time I’d left the windows down and the sprinkler on.
If the robots had gotten wet, they might have
shorted out. I wondered what time it was, but since I
wear my watch on my wrist,
and my wrist happened to be lying on the kitchen floor
I couldn’t check.

A van pulled up when we got to the driveway,
black, like in the mafia movies, and I was tossed inside.
The van drove to the bridge just outside the city limits
and I was tossed over the rail into the river.
Since I had no arms, I couldn’t swim,
but I was almost out of blood anyway.
Most of it was on my carpets and in the van.

As I was drowning slowly, I wondered if the
future owners of my house would ever get the blood
out of the carpets or put eggshells
in the disposal thinking,
maybe this time…

andrew

posted by Andy W. Anderson, Ph.D Candidate @ 12:45 PM